


Witch and Wizard of the Jundland Wastes

by midnightplanets



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Loss, Slow Build, Tatooinian Mythology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8529676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightplanets/pseuds/midnightplanets
Summary: Asajj Ventress is on the run from the Inquisitorius when her ship crashes in the Jundland Wastes on Tatooine. She is discovered by Obi Wan, now "Ben" Kenobi, and they have a bizarre adventure together living in the Tatooine outback with hostile sentients, suspicious Imperials, and a mysterious young boy that Ben watches out for, although he won't tell Ventress why.





	1. Escape From Coruscant

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place between Clone Wars and A New Hope, and assumes that Dark Disciple never happened but Ventress was gonna grow her hair like that anyways. 
> 
> I took some liberties with the chronology of including the specific Inquisitors, I'm not sure when they started working for the Empire but let's just say this story takes place at least a few years before SW:Rebels.
> 
> My first multichapter fic! Comments are much appreciated, and any constructive feedback as well!

Blue luminous figures danced across the Emperor’s desk. Tall buildings, two humanoid females who leapt across Coruscanti rooftops and then crouched atop a residential doorway in waiting, concealed from those below by an awning. Six more figures appeared out of the doorway. A Stormtrooper, grabbing a young girl by the elbow, who was pulling and struggling to break free. What must have been her father and mother in the background, reached out with desperate hands to try and free their child, but were beaten down by the Stormtroopers that made up the rear guard. Packets of rations, far too many to have been acquired legally, were thrown on the ground and stamped by Stormtrooper boots. The family cried out in despair.

On the rooftops, the two females nodded towards each other and leapt down from their hiding place. A green grappling boa whipped out from the hands of the lavender skinned rescuer and ensnared a Stormtrooper’s throat in its grasp. The trooper struggled, but with a flick of the Theelin’s wrist, he was flung into the building repeatedly until he eventually fell slack on the ground. Her partner, who had marble white skin barely visible below her sleeves, gripped a lightsaber hilt in her hands which shone yellow as it blazed into life.  This woman sliced all blasters pointing her way and kicked the troopers’ helmeted heads against the wall of the building until she, too, had felled all her opponents.

The woman with the lightsaber had her back to the surveillance holo as she knelt in front of the trembling child. She extended her hand, but the child shrank back from her. From her movements Palpatine could tell that she was removing her cloth face-covering to gain the frightened child’s trust, before scooping her up in her arms and carrying her back into the residence. She let her Theelin companion enter first, and before she followed her inside, she turned around to check the street behind them. Unfortunately for her, it gave the surveillance holo a clear shot of her face. Palpatine hissed in disbelief. He recognizes those battle markings – it was Asajj Ventress, former Sith Acolyte.

He clenched his fists in rage. She was a threat to his throne and the Empire he had worked so hard to build, painstakingly plotting for decades for his perfect ascension to power. He turned in his chair and keyed the comm on his holo projector. A black helmeted face came into vision, accompanied by the sounds of mechanical breathing.

“Yes, Master?” Darth Vader inquired.

“I have a job for you and your Inquisitors,” The Emperor grit out from between his teeth.

 

* * *

 

Mornings and nights were almost indistinguishable on the Coruscant lower levels. It seemed the only indicators of planetary rotation at all were the stray animals that woke at night and roamed among the trash heaps and sewer grates.

Clientele for bounty hunters didn’t usually meet during the day, so there was no reason for Asajj Ventress to be an early riser. She strolled out of her apartment mid-afternoon dressed in her signature blue, purple and bronze bounty hunter armor and clipping her lightsaber to her belt. As the doors slid shut behind her, she was met by the sleepy gaze of a loth cat, who had picked her front porch as it’s residence lately. It eyed her lazily but cautiously, with half-lidded eyes. She smirked and tossed a handful of crumbs from her pocket, then tried to hide the grin that crossed her face as the cat gobbled it up making satisfied crunching noises. Ventress brushed her short white hair out of her eyes as a speeder whizzed past, startling the loth cat, and made her way over to her usual haunt.

The cantina had barely opened at this time in the afternoon, and clientele was sparse. Ventress found a familiar Theelin already sitting in their favorite corner booth. Latts Razzi smiled and lifted a glass in greeting when she saw Ventress. Ventress smiled in return, and slid into the booth seat across from Latts.

“Enjoying your prize already, I see,” Ventress teased her.

“It’ll be gone by the time I finish this glass,” Latts responded, wrinkling her nose.

“I told you there wasn’t going to be a lot of money in this,” Ventress reminded her.

Latts rolled her eyes. “I _do_ have other interests besides money, ‘Sajj, _thanks_.”

Ventress leaned back in the booth and held her hands up in a placating manner. “Hey, I just don’t want to drag my friend into something she doesn’t want to do.”

Latts snorted. “Nah, we girls have to stick together. Besides, it’s not like we have any normal hobbies anyways.”

They chuckled.

It had been a few months now since she and Latts had started taking charity cases in addition to their normal bounties. Females were rare in the bounty hunter profession, and they had bonded over their shared struggles with being disrespected and taken advantage of by men who saw their larger size as an indication of superiority. In seeing the injustices dealt to women and girls across the galaxy and especially under the Empire, they had decided after a round of drinks one night to be protectors of girls in the Coruscant Underworld, using their skill in combat for a cause that they both believed in. Afterwards, they decided that night was so much fun that they continued doing it ever since, taking only what compensation their beneficiaries could comfortably provide.

Last night’s adventure saw them in the home of a family whose daughter, Shayli, was getting arrested for stealing rations. Shayli was only ten years old. The family didn’t have much, but out of gratitude for getting their daughter back safely, they gave Latts and Ventress a generous portion of their savings, before they packed up their most important belongings and boarded a shuttle off-planet for the Outer Rim.

Latts and Ventress didn’t understand what it was, but there was a special kind of high they got from these rescue missions. Like a warm feeling neither of them knew how to describe, and were too hesitant to explore, much less tell each other about.

Ventress had barely settled in when she felt two shadowy presences enter the room, and her body grew stiff as a board. Latts noticed the change in her friend, and stared at her, confused.

“What’s wrong?” Latts whispered.

Ventress’s eyes flickered towards the entrance of the bar, and her throat was dry all of a sudden with fear.

“I need to get out of here,” she said.

 

Latts followed her gaze to the front door. Two helmeted figures, clad all in black with the Imperial insignia on their shoulders were looking straight at them, and slowly and deliberately making their way through the bar. These were not just any Imperials, though, Ventress knew. She could _sense_ something different about them. These were the Inquisitors she had heard whispers about on her travels, the Empire’s force-sensitive soldiers who kidnapped children and eradicated what loose ends remained of the galaxy’s force-users after the Jedi purge.

And now, she realized, she was a loose end.

Latts looked back at Ventress with wide eyes, and took a deep breath. “Ok, listen to me. As soon as I stand up, get out. I’ll cover for you.”

Ventress threw her a pained look. “You don’t know what you’re going up against,” she protested.

“I know enough, I know the consequences will be much worse for you than they will be for me,” Latts said, her mind clearly made up.

Ventress hesitated, she knew Latts would be no match for the Inquisitors.

“I’m allowed to rescue someone who isn’t just a stranger, Asajj” Latts stared her down, her eyes glittering with intensity. “I’m allowed to rescue my best friend.”

Ventress gave her a small nod, her heart squeezing in her chest.

She felt a hand on her knee. Latts was still staring at her in the eyes. Ventress stared helplessly back. They didn’t have time for words now, but their shared look expressed the emotions and fears that were threatening to burst out of them both. Ventress hoped against hope that it wouldn’t be the last time she saw Latts.

All of a sudden the hand was gone from her knee, and Latts was standing up. Ventress wished there was some other way, but she searched her mind and found none. She had to make the agonizing decision to leave her friend, her partner, in danger.

Ventress bolted for the door.

The Inquisitors pivoted where they stood and started after her, but not before Latts let out a piercing battle cry and loosed her grappling boa to wrap the two Inquisitors up in it’s grasp. They struggled for a moment but it did not take long for them to muster up the Force energy needed to loosen Latt’s grip and escape. They reached behind their backs to detach circular lightsabers, which ignited into two red blades radiating out from either side of the hilt, and sprinted out the door, trying to catch sight of their target.

“I can’t stop them, they’re coming!” Latts screamed as Ventress and her pursuers took to the streets.

 

 

Ventress’s advantage was knowing these streets like the back of her hand. Theirs, being able to fly around effortlessly using their lightsabers as propellers while Ventress had to find handholds to swing from and footholds to jump off of. Eventually, she knew, they were going to catch up to her. She was outnumbered, and quite frankly, their spinning blades terrified her. It reminded her of General Grievous, when she had fought him and barely escaped with her life while he had slaughtered all of her people.

 _Fear… leads to anger…_ she reminded herself, and felt the blood pounding in her temples as rage began to blossom in her mind, flowing into her body, creating a reservoir of strength.

She was running, but they were hot on her trail. She could hide, but it would not be easy to remain hidden with Stormtroopers and scared citizens all too ready to turn her in. The only way to escape, she knew, was to get off planet.

Snarling, she made a course for the spaceport.

 

* * *

 

 

“You don’t want us to capture her, sir?” the Grand Inquisitor had asked Vader when he received the order to kill Ventress. “A former Sith acolyte could be a useful addition to our ranks.”

“No,” Vader snapped back, “She is no longer loyal to the Sith. She cannot be trusted by the Empire.”

The Grand Inquisitor had accepted Vader’s response without question, and had left with an obliging nod as he went to formulate a plan with the rest of the Inquisitors.

The more Vader thought about it, the more he was beginning to think that it was the will of the Force for him to be constantly opposing Ventress. First he was a Jedi and she was a Separatist and Sith acolyte, now he was the Sith and she was the failed apprentice too powerful and knowledgeable to be kept alive.

If it was another dark side user, perhaps Vader would have considered the Grand Inquisitor’s idea. But Ventress reminded him too painfully of his past. She knew him when he was a Jedi. She had crossed blades with him multiple times and knew all too well the mortal man that Anakin Skywalker was under the suit. With her dark sense of humor and penchant for insults and degrading remarks, he was sure she would bring up his past far too often for comfort.  No, having Ventress join the Inquisitors was not a possibility. The only possibility was death.

Even though he had never been particularly fond of her, a twinge of guilt plucked at his ribs. Ventress had been key in helping him free Ahsoka, his padawan for whom he had fought tooth and nail to save from being sentenced to death. Ahsoka, who shattered his heart when she turned down his request to stay at the Jedi temple.

Vader’s chest tightened as the memories returned, unbidden. _Ahsoka. I saved you, Ahsoka but you didn’t choose to stay with me._ Grief, anguish, a sense of failure. Then, the most familiar nightmares, that haunted him every time he shut his eyes for sleep, _Padme, you chose to stay with me, even until the end, but I couldn’t save you, or our child…_

He squeezed his eyes shut as his fought back the wave of nausea that threatened him every time he thought of his past failures. He focused on his rage, which came to him like a reliable friend, a comfort.

 _Ventress._ Her mere existence pained him, threatened him with these memories… He would not be weakened by such burdens. _She must die_.

Between the six Inquisitors it should be enough to take her out without him ever having to see her again in person. But if the Inquisitors couldn’t handle her, he would kill her himself – with his hands squeezing around her throat until her life was choked out of her, and her memories of Anakin Skywalker dying as well.

 

* * *

 

 

Ventress scaled the wall protecting the spaceport and rushed towards her ship, the Banshee. The Inquisitors floated effortlessly over the wall coming in close behind her. She couldn’t risk them incapacitating her ship with those lightsabers, so she braced herself for the oncoming fight.

She gritted her teeth and spun around as they landed and faced her. She unclipped her lightsaber and switched it on, the blade glowing a soft yellow. The taller Inquisitor started back for a moment, as if shocked by the color of her blade.

“Where did you get that lightsaber?” he demanded.

Ventress smiled. “Sorry, my shopping advice is worth a fee.”

She took the chance to thrust the saber towards the distracted Inquisitor.

Unfortunately, his partner was quick to step in and the spinning blade knocked Ventress’s saber back towards the ground. Ventress sneered and used the momentum to flick her blade up quickly towards the hilt of the saber, slicing it in half. The Inquisitor let out a modulated scream of frustration, while the taller one stepped out in front of his partner to take her place.

Ventress was shocked as he removed his helmet, revealing the gray face of a Pau’an male with yellow eyes and markings of red triangles underneath the eyes and on the forehead.

“I’ve heard so much about you Asajj Ventress, you were a force to be reckoned with during the Clone Wars,” the Inquisitor said.

Ventress tightened her grip on her lightsaber, eyes narrowing. “Don’t underestimate me, I’m a force to be reckoned with now, too,” she snarled.

“Have you heard of me?” the Inquisitor asked, ignoring her taunt, and testing her knowledge.

“Can’t say that I have,” Ventress replied with a frown.

The Inquisitor looked a bit hurt. “I am _only_ the Grand Inquisitor of the Galactic Empire, really. For a force-user in hiding I am disappointed you don’t stay more up to date with current events.”

“What do you want from me,“ she demanded, resisting the urge to turn tail and run towards her ship.

“You’re the one who ran,” the Grand Inquisitor sneered at her, “Tell me, why do you run?”

Ventress hesitated, caught off-guard.

The Grand Inquisitor took this opportunity and charged at her but Ventress blocked, her lightsaber quivering with the strain of holding the spinning blade in place.

She took the opportunity to execute a well-placed kick to the Inquisitor’s groin. He grunted and doubled over, lightsaber clattering disactivated to the ground and his arms wrapped around his abdomen in pain.

Ventress turned to run, but suddenly she felt invisible energy grasping at her ankles, which threw her off-balance and left her falling on her face. Propping herself up on her elbows, she turned and saw that the second Inquisitor, a yellow-skinned Mirialan female with her helmet removed, was not letting the loss of her weapon deter her from fighting.

Ventress screamed in frustration and gathered up her rage in her belly, and managed to throw a force-push that sent the female Inquisitor hurtling towards the metallic hull of a freighter behind her. The Inquisitor collided with a hard thud, and fell stunned on the ground.

Now free of the second Inquisitor’s grasp, Ventress leapt over the ship in front of her to create a barrier between herself and her assailants, and ran for the Banshee.

As she reached her ship, Ventress quickly lowered the ramp and clambered inside, activating the launch sequence before the ramp had even closed, her breath coming in hard and her heart pounding frantically in her chest.

Agonizing seconds ticked by where all she could do was hope that she didn’t hear the sound of lightsabers whirring and tearing up her ship’s engines. Nothing, that she knew of. The ship powered up and began to shuttle down the runway, and then she was off, flying up and away from the spaceport, where two now-helmeted black figures were staring up at her with tinted visors and mechanical eyes.

Ventress turned away from them and forced herself to not look back as she gunned the acceleration and wove through layer upon layer of Coruscant air traffic. After many close misses and angry fists and honking horns being directed her way, Ventress finally broke atmo and, steering clear of any Star Destroyers surrounding the planet, looked for the best place to make her jump to Hyperspace.


	2. Tatooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Latts and Ventress plan to meet up on Tatooine, but Ventress runs into some trouble on her way there. 
> 
> Flashback featuring Grand Admiral Thrawn, and Obi Wan makes his first appearance!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all your support of this fic!! I am so happy that people are as excited as I am to embark on this crazy journey through Tatooine. 
> 
> I will try my best to update once a week, although I just started programming bootcamp so it may be a bit more of a challenge than I had initially expected... ;u; I really really want to get my ideas out there though so I will try and squeeze out some chapters on the train and stuff! 8D
> 
> As always, comments are love, comments are life! <3

Ventress’s eyes scanned the ship’s console as she assessed her situation. There was no chance for her to refuel in the Core with the Empire on the lookout for her, but she had barely enough to reach the Outer Rim. That would be the best place for her to lay low. She prepared to make the jump to Hyperspace.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tiny green light as her wrist comm blinked. It was Latts.

“Oh, thank the Force,” Latts sighed in relief on the other end. The her voice grew boisterous again. “See? Told you I could help rescue my best friend, even though she _tries_ to pretend she’s too _tough_ to need my help.”

Ventress couldn’t help but smile. “You were _right_ , Latts. And thank you. How are you holding up? Did they give you any trouble?”

“No, they seemed to be more interested in catching you, but I figure I should lay low for a while just to be safe. They might be looking for me too, now that they know I’m a connection to you”

Ventress grimaced. “I’m sorry, Latts.”

“Hey, don’t pretend I wouldn’t have had trouble with the Imperials anyways,” Latts pointed out.

“What are you going to do?” Ventress asked, hoping her friend could shed some insight since she wasn’t even sure what _she_ was going to do now.

There was a brief pause, then, “Hey, come meet me on Tatooine. I have some contacts in Mos Eisley that owe me some favors, they could help us get a fresh start.”

Ventress thought to herself how grateful she was to have Latts. She smiled.

“Sure, I’ll meet you there.”

“Wizard. Latts out.”

“Latts –“ Ventress interrupted her.

“Yeah, ‘Sajj?” came the voice on the other end.

“May the Force be with you.”

“And with you, ‘Sajj.”

A pause. “Is that all?” Latts asked in confusion.

Ventress smiled. “Yeah. See you in a couple rotations.”

The transmission clicked off.

Ventress groaned and put her head in the palms of her hands. She wasn’t supposed to be sentimental, she couldn’t _afford_ to be, but somehow she just felt… like she couldn’t take her friendship with Latts for granted. So many times before, all that she loved had been torn away from her, and she was beyond the point of caring if she appeared vulnerable or weak for caring for people. She knew Latts would understand.

Rubbing her eyes, Ventress sighed in exhaustion and keyed in the coordinates for Tatooine.

Her stomach turned to ice, however, when saw two incoming TIE fighters appear on her radar. As they closed in on her, she could sense it again, that dark presence, the shadow, the cold… _The Inquisitors._

Her console beeped that the ship was ready to make the jump to hyperspace. Without a moment’s delay, Ventress yanked on the lever, and the stars outside her viewport exploded into streaks of blue and white.

 

 

Ventress sat cross-legged on the floor of the cargo hold, amidst all that was left of her belongings. Tools, armor and weapons were strewn around her in a loose circle of chaos as she sorted through what she could take and what she would have to leave before she started her new life.

She wore only the black high collared tank top and shorts that she traditionally wore under her bounty hunter ensemble, the rest of her outfit either in a pile to be discarded, or to be modified to suit her new identity. She took a sanding strip and rubbed away the markings on her armor, the snake symbol she had painted on her shoulder-piece, the blue paint, anything that would make it recognizable. When she was done, all that remained was the scratched silver metal underneath, and puffs of blue paint dust that coated her fingers and the ground around her.

She crawled over to her weapons pile. The yellow lightsaber was easily recognizable – a liability, if she was to be honest – but she couldn’t bear to be without it all the same. Her lightsaber was her life and her pride, this latest one symbolic of her freedom – outside the Jedi, the Sith, and the Clone Wars – and much more versatile than a blaster. She adjusted one of her thigh holsters to create a discreet place to carry it on her body – the locals on Tatooine tended to wear long and loose clothing, so as long as she followed suit, the chances that anyone would see it were slim.

Surveying her wardrobe, she realized that her favorite blues and purples were in stark contrast to most the Tatooinan population who preferred the beiges and browns that complemented their desert home. Ventress chewed on her lower lip while looking for other plausible options in her cargo bay. She rummaged through some dusty cargo boxes and finally pulled out a course-woven brown moving-blanket. It was not the most comfortable nor would it be the most elegant solution, but it would do to make her disguise until she met up with Latts and figured out her new identity. She cut a hole in the middle to stick her head through, and crafted it into a makeshift poncho. It draped thickly and awkwardly across her body and fell to mid-way down her shins, but if she stood far away enough from the mirror it had the right look. Good enough.

She pulled off the poncho and threw it, along with her armor, lightsaber, and a few nutrient capsules haphazardly onto the top bunk and plopped herself down on the bottom bunk to get some sleep. She still had six hours left in Hyperspace, and she wanted to be well-rested when she arrived.

 

She awoke to the beep of her ship’s console, telling her that the ship was preparing to exit Hyperspace. She swung her legs over the side of the bunk and stiffly climbed into the pilot’s seat, just in time to see a dusty yellow planet appear large in her viewport, just as expected.

But she noticed in alarm that there was something that had not been there last time she was on this planet – a singular Star Destroyer, looming large and casting it’s foreboding shadow over the desert, and two TIE fighters with curved wings which were headed straight for her ship.

“ _Kriff!_ ,” she cursed under her breath, and hastily switched the ship over to manual control, preparing to somehow maneuver her way out of this situation.

The TIE fighters split up, flanking her on either side. She dipped down, trying to evade them, and zig-zagged through the air as she dodged the onslaught of green laser bolts that rained down towards her.

She knew she couldn’t keep this up for long. Engaging in a dog fight with the Empire was going to eat up more fuel than she had available. Ventress’s mind raced, trying to weigh her options.

Her ship rocked as blasterfire found its target. Indicator lights and alarms blared on her console and she cursed again. There was no way she could out-maneuver the two of them in space. She would have to make it to the planet’s surface and somehow make her escape there. She gunned the engines as fast as they would go.

 

* * *

 

 

Seventh Sister smiled when she saw Ventress’s ship appear out of Hyperspace.

“Good call, Grand Admiral,” she murmured to herself.

When she and the Grand Inquisitor had reported to Vader that they had lost their target, Vader had called a meeting with the newly promoted Grand Admiral, to consult with him on where he thought she’d most likely be found. It was a most peculiar experience, as Seventh Sister recalled…

 

The Grand Admiral was in his office, adorned with the artwork of numerous species – some extinct, some very much alive. The artwork he was currently holding, however, was that of the former – a Nightsister bow that had been confiscated from Asajj Ventress’s last known residence on Coruscant, which the locals had been all too eager to give up to with the promise of extra ration packets.

The Grand Admiral was fingering the craftsmanship of the bow’s grip, eyeing it with a sadness but utmost respect. Without any greeting or formality, as Vader and the two Inquisitors entered his office, the Grand Admiral merely mused aloud.

“The Nightsisters of Dathomir are a culture strongly defined by their loyalty to their kin,” Thrawn spoke in a soft voice. “A strong sense of community, of loyalty, regardless of whether that sense of unity involves doing something unethical.”

Seventh Sister looked to Vader, to see how he would respond to this Grand Admiral’s peculiar graces. Vader merely crossed his arms and listened to the Admiral in rapt attention.

“Ventress will seek out somewhere familiar,” the blue skinned Grand Admiral continued, while rising out of his seat and walking over to a navigational display in his office. “Outliving her Jedi Master, the Nightsister clan, being betrayed by Dooku… Asajj Ventress longs for stability. I would look for a planet that she has been to before, where she has connections but where there is limited Imperial presence”

He had pointed to a cluster of planets in the outer rim. Seventh Sister noticed that Vader shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“Tatooine,” Thrawn spoke, his voice soft as always but no less commanding. “Our sources say this is where she first got her start as a bounty hunter, and it’s far enough from the Core where it’d be easy to stay out of the Imperial eye. A multitude of criminals and lawless types here, many of whom fear or look up to her, it will not take long before she forces them to give her what she wants, and goes into hiding.”

He paced around the star chart, and held his hand up with his fingers pinched together to indicated the importance of what he was about to say.

“That ship, the Banshee, is our best bet at catching her,” he said, now face to face with the Inquisitorius, his red eyes, boring into both Seventh Sister and Grand Inquisitor’s souls with ferocity. "Lose it, and our job will become _exponentially_ more difficult.”

 

 

Ventress had successfully evaded Seventh Sister so far, but one of Grand Inquisitor’s shots found it’s mark, and Ventress’s ship rocked and shuddered as it was hit. Seventh Sister cackled in delight.

“Nice shot, big bro!” Seventh Sister shouted across their comm channel in glee.

“Stay focused, sis,” was the growling response.

Ventress’s ship sped up. She had to be pushing the Banshee’s engines to their breaking point. Seventh Sister frowned, but followed suit. _What is she doing?_ She knew Ventress couldn’t keep it up for long, not without doing serious damage to her ship. But now, Ventress was approaching the planet, and then entering atmo way too fast, as if there was something wrong with her ship...

“What in the stars does she think she’s doing?” Grand Inquisitor exclaimed in disbelief.

“At this rate, we can just sit back and relax,” Seventh Sister replied, “She’ll kill herself flying like this.”

“Don’t get comfortable sis, we _need_ to see this through all the way.”

“It’s called a _joke,_ big bro,” Seventh Sister rolled her eyes.

“I’m not laughing.”

The two Inquisitors sped up and followed Ventress, but still cautiously slowed for their descent through the atmosphere.

Sparks were flying out of the rear of Ventress’s ship, it slowed as it became bogged down by the atmosphere, and began to ignite.

“Hmm, looks like you did more damage than I thought,” Seventh Sister mused aloud.

“Thanks, make sure you tell Lord Vader so I can get a promotion,” Grand Inquisitor boasted.

“You already _got_ a promotion!”

“Then tell him to make a new rank so I can get promoted again.”

“Ugh,” Seventh Sister rolled her eyes. Then leaned forward in her seat, using the lenses on her helmet to zoom in on Ventress’s ship.

“Hey, I think she’s really gonna crash!”

“Looks like it. Just wait…”

And there it was. The ship ran itself into a jagged cliff face, twisted metal and sparks everywhere, flames roaring now from the rear engines into a whirlwind of fire. The Inquisitors were silent as they circled the wreckage, letting their viewport cameras take in the footage as record of death for the Imperial archives.

“Well, there’s no easy place for us to land around here,” Grand Inquisitor observed.

“Agreed,” replied Seventh Sister. The vicinity of the crash site was surrounded by mountain peaks and rocky slopes, it would be near impossible to make a landing without risking a rock slide and damaging their ships.

“Well, no one could survive that crash, and even if they did, they’d be eaten alive by those flames,” she concluded.

“Let’s regroup and report. Well done, sister.”

Seventh Sister smiled. “ _You_ made the shot, remember? You have to remember that if you want to get that promotion, big bro.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t think Vader wouldn’t like it if he knew you were calling me ‘big bro’ on the Empire’s comm channel.”

“But Vader isn’t listening, now is he?”

“You’re lucky he’s not.”

Seventh Sister laughed.

 

* * *

 

 

This was technically Ventress’ first time faking her death. The other few times when Count Dooku thought she was dead, it was just as much of a surprise to her as it was to Dooku that she survived. She hoped that, in a cruel twist of irony, the process of faking her death was not going to result in her _actual_ death.

She purposely crashed into a jagged clifface viewport-first, so that way no one could see in and confirm that she was alive. She made sure to conceal her force signature so the Inquisitors couldn’t sense her in the Force, and hid herself inside a shock resistant shipping crate to minimize injuries. She tumbled over and over in the shipping crate until she felt the crate stop as it hit the navicom and the pilot seat. She tentatively tried to lift the lid of the crate to see what condition her ship – or it’s remains – were in, but her heart lurched as she realized the lid didn’t budge.

 _Oh no._ She frantically tried pounding on it, prying at the edges with her fingers, her breath coming in short and heavy and her heartbeat deafening in her head. _No, no, no!_ She had left her lightsaber on the bunk outside, and she was trapped, weaponless, inside this box.

It was growing hotter and hotter in her hiding place, and harder and harder to breath. Her eyes wide in fear as she realized, this shipping crate could be her coffin.

 

* * *

 

 

Obi Wan’s meditation was interrupted by a loud crash that shook the floor of his home. At first he thought it was an earthquake. But then, something seemed off about it. _If there was an earthquake coming, the animals would have started acting up first, but they didn’t seem to notice until I did…_

Then he smelled burning.

Tucking his lightsaber away, hidden in his robes, he quickly stood up and peered out his door. Smoke, rising in the east. Had the Sandpeople decided to make camp so close to him?

That was unusual, since Sandpeople were usually scared of him. When he had first moved in to the abandoned moisture prospector’s house in the Jundland Wastes, they had tried to run him out. But the moment they saw him ignite his blue lightsaber, they ran off immediately and Obi Wan found offerings of artwork and fruit at his door ever since. It intrigued and confused him to no end, but he hadn’t quite found an answer for their unusual behavior yet – besides deducing that they must have had a bad run-in with a Jedi at one point.

It was against his best interests to get too involved in other people’s business on this planet, but curiosity and an unshakeable Jedi inclination towards caring for other living beings got the better of him. Obi Wan grabbed his lightsaber and headed over to investigate the source of the burning.

As he got closer, his worries were confirmed as he recognized the smell of burning starship fuel. He had seen a star destroyer overhead earlier in the day, and knew it was too much to be a coincidence. Perhaps it was one of Bail Organa’s rebels that had been shot down. Maybe just an unlucky smuggler. Either way, someone was in trouble.

He raced over the crest of the hill until he saw the smoldering wreckage of the ship jutting out of the cliff below, looming precariously over a stomach churning drop into a dry canyon below. He watched in horror as something inside exploded, and the ship rocked, the cliff-face crumbled, and the ship fell, slowly, catastrophically, into the canyon.

He hoped with all his heart that no one was inside. There was little chance that anyone could survive a crash and then a fire of that magnitude. But just to make sure, he reached out with the Force to see if there were any living beings still trapped inside – and his stomach twisted into a knot when he sensed someone, scared, frantic, sweltering hot and growing dizzy from lack of air.

He knew he was taking a risk by jumping down the canyon after the flaming starship. He knew he risked his life, his mission to protect the boy he had left at the Lars Homestead, his anonymity.

But all he could think when he felt that person in the Force, trapped by flames, and desperate for help, was that he wished it was Anakin. That Anakin had asked him for help on that hillside on Mustafar, as his limbs were severed and his body catching fire, that he had reached out towards Obi Wan instead of screaming with red-rimmed eyes and a voice filled with rage, _I hate you._

Obi Wan had never stopped wondering if he could have changed the events that fateful night on Mustafar, if he could have scooped Anakin up in his arms and carried him away, far away from this Galaxy, into Wild Space or wherever he needed to go to save that lost boy, older than his years, the one he had called brother.

But he couldn’t change what happened that night. He didn’t save Anakin and he knew it would be a failure that followed him to his grave. Even though it went against reason, Obi Wan felt that, by saving this person trapped in this flaming starship, by saving them from Anakin’s fate, it would make the galaxy a little bit more right again.

 

* * *

 

 

Ventress felt like she was melting. Her body was dripping with sweat, her head was throbbing in pain, her mind was becoming unfocused, and her eyes heavy and dry. She pressed her palms helplessly against the sides of the crate and cried. _Latts, anyone, please,_ she begged, _Help me, I don’t want to die like this. I don’t want to die alone._

Tears of frustration and pain mingled with sweat. She thought she heard a clanging sound of metal on metal from outside of her crate. Then, an orange glow as if a lightsaber was cutting through melted metal, a blue plasma blade, the lid being lifted off, and a kind, worried, bearded face – _Obi Wan?_

Her rescuer shouted at her to get up and take his hand, but her body was sluggish and she found she could barely move. She felt the man’s arms lift her up out of the crate and hold her close to his body. Her cheek rested on coarse brown robes. _Jedi robes_ , she thought.

He tried to ask her something, but she was too incoherent to respond with more than a few muffled noises. He held her even tighter, and then jumped, up and out of the ship. She sighed in relief as she felt the cool air outside of her ship.

The last thing she remembered before her mind slipped into darkness was someone saying her name.


	3. The Home of Ben Kenobi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ventress wakes up in the home of 'Ben' Kenobi.   
> They're both not the people they used to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Thank you all sooo much for your continued support and comments, I have so much fun writing this and replying to your comments guys, I'm really happy!!
> 
> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, I have been really sick buuuuut, wanted to publish this before the end of November so I can say I tried for NaNoWriMo (which is really the reason this fic even exists, thank you NaNoWriMo gods!) at 10,000+ words it's my biggest accomplishment so far, but it is only beginning! (I still haven't got to the good part yet, not even close!) I will hopefully have a good chunk of time to write over the weekend, so hope to have the next installment in a week or so, as per usual :)

Ventress awoke staring up at beige synstone ceilings. She cautiously moved her legs, and could feel something plush and furry beneath her. She rubbed the dried tears that had hardened around her eyes and sat up to survey her surroundings. A small one-room dwelling, a few alcoves filled with books, a large wooden chest that sat in a deliberate place on the ground. A round low table in front of her. She realized she was sitting on a bed, which seemed to double as a couch, which was covered with a thick brown bantha hide. Next to it was another plush armchair, but that was the extent of the room’s sparse furnishings.

From behind her, she heard the rustling of fabric and the clink of ceramic on metal. She turned around.

A man who looked eerily like Obi Wan Kenobi was balancing a tray stacked two ceramic mugs full of water. He caught sight of Ventress staring at him.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he quipped jovially with a relieved smile.

Confused, Ventress frowned and sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed. She looked down at her fingers intently, wiggled them, and then looked back at Obi Wan.

“Kenobi?” she exclaimed, furrowing her brows in confusion. “Has the Force brought you back from the dead to rescue me?”

Obi Wan laughed. “Nothing quite so elaborate, my dear. I was merely one of the lucky ones who managed to escape with their lives during the executive order.”

“So it _is_ true that there are surviving Jedi,” Ventress mused, as she watched Obi Wan place the tray onto the table.

He sat in his chair with his water, and motioned for Ventress to do the same. “You should drink something.”

She clasped the mug in her hands. It had a gritty texture and was coarsely sculpted, but cool to the touch. She slowly brought the cup to her lips and drank with long, eager gulps, until she had drained the entire mug. She gasped and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before placing the mug back on the table, noticing that Obi Wan was watching her intently.

“More?” he gestured towards the cup. Ventress shook her head.

“There were reports that you had died on Utapau,” Ventress continued, still in disbelief, “That you fell in the water.”

“Yes, and your ship caught on fire and yet, here you are,” Obi Wan smirked.

Ventress threw him a dirty look. “You rescued me,” she repeated. “I… thank you, Obi Wan.”

“And you rescued _me,_ during the Clone Wars, remember?” Obi Wan reminded her. “I am merely returning the favor. Consider ourselves even.” He lifted his mug as if in a toast.

Ventress looked down at her hands, still in disbelief at her current situation.

She caught sight of her wrist comm, and turned her arm to take a closer look. No lights. She gave it a few taps, but nothing. She flopped sideways on the bed and groaned.

“Fried circuits?” Obi Wan frowned sympathetically. Ventress nodded.

“I’m supposed to meet my friend Latts in Mos Eisley,” Ventress explained with a sigh. “The Empire caught wind of our vigilante activities and sent the Inquisitors after us, hence… all of this.“ She made a large sweeping motion with her arm.

Obi Wan nodded. “Hmm.”

“She has a contact that will get new identities, help us disappear,” Ventress was saying, now laying on her back again, staring up at the ceiling. She then flipped over to prop herself up on her elbows. “Say, how have you managed to stay hidden all these years? Are you using a new identity as well?”

Obi Wan laughed dryly. “Well, first of all, the only non-native sentients that live out this far are crazy old hermits that hold no interest to anyone – unless you’re interested in finding out what kinds of bugs are edible, in which case they are a treasure trove of wisdom” Ventress wrinkled her nose “And secondly, yes, I do have an alias – Ben. Ben Kenobi.”

“Ben…” Ventress smiled, letting the name fall over her tongue. It was a nice name, she thought.

She tilted her head and gave Obi Wan a questioning look. “Isn’t Kenobi a bit risky though?”

“I hardly go around giving out my last name. Only one family on Tatooine knows it.”

“One family, huh?” Ventress raised her eyebrow ridge, interest piqued.

Obi Wan merely smiled. “I’ll have to introduce you sometime.”

Ventress interlaced her fingers and wrung her hands nervously. “Well, I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I don’t think I’ll be staying very long. Latts must be quite worried about me.”

Obi Wan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t plan on staying on-planet, either?”

“That’s… not decided yet.”

Obi Wan seemed a little disappointed.

“Will you… help me get to Mos Eisley?” Ventress spoke up sheepishly. “I do not know the way.”

It never came easily to her, asking for help – demanding it, yes, but Obi Wan was… could she call him a friend now? Considering her life was in his hands now, she figured the least she could do was ask politely.

When she lifted her eyes, she saw him beaming at her, his eyes full of warmth. “Of course, my dear,” was his reply.

Ventress nodded appreciatively. “Thank you. I’ll make it up to you.”

Obi Wan smiled. “Your company has been payment enough. You have no idea how lonely it gets out here.”

 _I think I have an idea…_ Ventress thought wryly. She knew what it was like to be the last of her kind. To have no one in your life who knew your story, your past, no one to be excited about your future… she was lucky she had Latts now (although her and Latts didn’t talk about their pasts much), but she knew too well Obi Wan’s isolation.

She swung her legs over the side of the couch and stood up.

“How about you show me around?” she asked Obi Wan.

“I’d be delighted,” he replied with a smile.

 

They spent the rest of the day out and about around the house. Obi Wan showed Ventress the refresher first, but she refused to shower quite yet because she was “only going to get dusty again anyways.” The small kitchen was not hard to miss, just behind and above the main living area where a small metal stove was tucked away, along with a sink, which had bunches of leaves hanging up above (dried herbs from his garden, Obi Wan explained).

There was a trapdoor, opened by a metal ring, that led to Obi Wan’s workshop downstairs (it was an infernal mess. Ventress made a note never to go down there and expect to find anything of use.) Out back was a little garden, tucked away in the shade of the dwelling. It mostly consisted of succulents and desert plants, but there was also a small greenhouse that housed herbs and tea plants. Obi Wan admitted that tea was one of the luxuries of civilization that he missed the most. (Ventress stored that bit of information away for future reference.)

Watching him talk so excitedly about his tiny plants, Ventress was struck by how ironic it was that such a kind and gentle man was once a General in the Clone Wars. While Obi Wan had certainly excelled in role in the military, she was beginning to think his temperament would be more suited for a farmer, or a nerf-herder, a caretaker of living things. _Isn’t that what the Jedi are about, anyways?_ Well, supposed to be, at least. Ventress shuddered as a gust of wind hit her bare arms, and she hugged herself to keep warm.  

The desert was almost silent. So different from the cacophony of blasters and tanks that the battlefields were, where they first me. And yet back then, even amidst the chaos and violence Ventress had been able to find sanctuary in Obi Wan. He was a source of excitement that stemmed not only from his combat prowess but his lighthearted nature and snarky wit. Running into Obi Wan was never going to be business as usual, and she loved the thrill.

Ventress sighed. The Clone Wars seemed so long ago all of a sudden.

Ventress was snapped out of her thoughts as Obi Wan waved a flat oblong cactus fruit in her face. She blinked, taken aback.

“I’m boring you, aren’t I,” Obi Wan remarked, seemingly undisturbed by it.

“Sorry,” she gave an apologetic smile and ran her hand through her hair, “Just, thinking how it’s funny we ended up… here,” she said, gesturing at the expanse of sand and cliffs that seemed to stretch on forever in each direction. “Together.”

Obi Wan gazed thoughtfully into the binary sunset, his hair and beard illuminated with a warm glow from the setting stars. “You know, this might sound strange, but I think I always knew we’d meet again. Or maybe I’m just glad that we did. I’ve always felt there was something special between us, maybe the Force thinks so too,” he said with a faraway look in his eyes, and lifted the corner of his mouth in a tiny smile as he gazed back at her.

Ventress blushed. She felt the full weight of his gaze as if it were rays of sunlight, shining down on her, exposing her – it made her feel warm inside, but also uncomfortable, like it was too bright, and she had to shield herself from it’s rays.

“ _I_ think what you’ve felt between us was your obvious infatuation with me, Master Jedi,” Ventress waved away his remarks with a chuckle. Obi Wan blushed and opened his mouth in protest at the accusation.

“If I recall, _you_ were the one who seemed to always be removing her clothing around me,” he quipped back.

“I like to put on a show for the troops.”

“Even your enemies?”

Ventress pouted. “I work hard for my body, I wanted to someone to appreciate it who wasn’t a droid.”

Obi Wan made a weird face and idly tossed the cactus fruit a few times in his hand and then waved her back toward the entrance of his home. “Well, I suggest you remove your clothing now for a totally different reason. You smell and we should be getting ready for dinner soon,” he said as he turned and walked back towards the door.

Ventress frowned, slightly offended, but she knew he had a point. Sand was beginning to stick to her exposed skin, still covered in sweat. She trudged through the sand dunes to follow him.

She stopped when she reached the front of the house. She noticed that smoke was rising in the east.

“Is that smoke from my ship?” she asked Obi Wan when she entered.

“Yes, it is. Why?” Obi Wan said, looking up from a frying pan where he was cooking some sort of thin, light-colored dough.

“Hmm,” Ventress said, disappointed. “I guess I’ll have to wait until morning to see if any of my belongings survived the fire.”

“And the Jawas,” Obi Wan pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re camping out right now, waiting to raid the spoils.”

Ventress groaned, placing a hand over her eyes.

“Why, what did you have in there?”

“My armor, survival pack, lightsaber…”

“Well, to be fair, lightsabers attract a lot of attention out here, it’s probably better you don’t use it anyways, or get a new one.”

“Where do you get a new one around here?”

“I don’t know, I still use my old one.”

“You’re no help!” Ventress threw her hands up in despair and sat down on the bed again, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. “So what about this shower you told me about?”

“Ah, just a sec.” Obi Wan waited a few more seconds before he slid a piece of flatbread off the skillet, then crossed the threshold into the main room. He wiped his hands on his long tunic, and knelt in front of the large wooden chest in the front room. He pulled out a brown and beige pile of cloth and handed it to Ventress.

Ventress took his offering, but looked at him confused.

“Obi Wan, are these…” she unfolded the clothes and held them out to inspect them. Yep, it was. It was Obi Wan’s beige undertunic and a pair of brown trousers, an outfit she had seen him wear during his time in the Jedi Order. She quickly folded them over her arms and held them back out to Obi Wan, shaking her head. “No, no, Obi Wan, I can’t,” she insisted.

Obi Wan placed his hands over hers and pushed the clothing back towards her, “Yes, you can. You’re not that person anymore,” he said, as if it was the simplest and plainest thing in the world.

 _How would you know?_ Ventress thought glumly. “I don’t feel comfortable –“, she started again.

“Asajj,” he said firmly, now staring intensely into her eyes. “There is no Jedi Order now. This is not a Jedi’s uniform, it’s just a spare set of clothes I have in my house, which I am offering to a dear old friend who has stopped by for a visit.”

Ventress slowly retracted her hands back towards her body, and Obi Wan released his grip with a smile.

Ventress narrowed her eyes at him and studied him carefully, and then a mischievous smile crossed her face. “I think part of you is excited to see me dress like a Jedi again.”

“I’d be lying if I denied that, darling,” he said with a wink, and rose to go back to the kitchen and continue frying his flatbread.

As he picked up his frying pan again to start making more flatbread, he spun around and asked with wide eyes, “ ’Again’?”

 _Oops._ Unwilling to delve into her past at the moment, Ventress merely sat back with a smile, enjoying Obi Wan’s confusion.

“So is it true you were once a Jedi as well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ventress chuckled, trying to mask her discomfort, drawing circles idly in the bantha fur with her finger.

“Ventress, please, you _have_ to tell me, I’m dying to know now.”

Ventress hummed absentmindedly, then she picked up the pile of clothes that Obi Wan had left her and carried them into the refresher. “Patience, young padawan,” she said in a mocking voice, and shut the door behind her with a thin smile, leaving Obi Wan gaping at her at a loss of words.

 _Well, I know one way to shut him up now,_ Ventress noted to herself as she began to strip off her soiled clothes.

She turned on the water and hugged herself, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for it to warm up. _Would it be so bad to just tell him?_ She asked herself. When was the last time she had talked about her life as a Jedi padawan? Had she _ever_ talked about it after she denounced the Order?

_When was the last time you said his name?_

“Ky,” she whispered, and shuddered at the sound.

Ventress took a deep breath and stepped into the water.

 

* * *

 

 

Obi Wan didn’t have much in the way of food in his kitchen. He had a large bag of flour that he procured a few moons ago in town that he used to make Tatooinian flatbread when he felt like being ambitious with dinner. Other times he would subsist on insects (dead, of course, who would eat live bugs except for Anakin now, really), some herbs and vegetables from his garden, or fruit that the Jawas would bring him (that wasn’t very palatable to be honest). Some days he barely ate at all.

He didn’t want Ventress to see the way he _really_ lived here. He didn’t want her to see the depths of anguish to which he had sunk, which consumed every passing rotation so he was barely able to lift his head from the mattress every morning and keep going, keep surviving for the possibility of hope that may never even come to pass.

Luckily his lack of possessions in the upstairs of his dwelling made it so things seemed tidy no matter what he did, but he suspected she was already alarmed by the state of his workshop.

 _She used to be a Jedi too,_ Obi Wan mused, he wanted to hear more about her past but she was reluctant to tell him. He’d just have to be satisfied with that little bit of information for now, then. But it did make him happy to hear that. There was another Jedi here, even in his own _home._ It helped him feel… less alone.

A door slid open and a puff of steam poured into the living room as Ventress emerged from the refresher, toweling off her short tuft of hair. Obi Wan smiled. _Your new hair looks cute_ , he thought, although he was too afraid to tell her at the moment.

His clothes were slightly large on her, so she had rolled up the hem of his trousers, which exposed her now bare feet. She had rolled up the sleeves on the undertunic as well, which draped loosely and elegantly over her body and fell to just past her hips.

Obi Wan was not oblivious, he had realized Asajj Ventress was an attractive woman the moment he first saw her. He knew _he_ was attracted to her – quite a bit, if he was completely honest. It wasn’t just her beauty, it was _her._ She was extremely intelligent, and had a clever wit, and they had somehow managed to form a connection even when they were both on opposite sides of an ideological war. He was a bit afraid what might happen now that they were so close, and there was no war standing between them now….

Right now, he was so _proud_ of her. She had changed so much in the time they knew each other. When they first met she was always angry, her face always contorted into a frown, brows permanently knit together in a scowl. And then she was betrayed, he had spared her life, and before he knew it she was rescuing him, lending him her lightsaber. Now she stood before him, her face filled with more peace than he ever recalled seeing on it before, wearing his clothes, sharing his _life._

 _Stay,_ he wanted to plead with her, _Stay with me please._

But she had places to go, people to meet. Her life would go on, the world would keep turning for her while his stagnated in emptiness and vain hope, false prophecies, a failed life…

“Kenobi, you’ve been staring at me an awfully long time.” Ventress demanded impatiently. “Did I miss a spot? Is there sand on my face?”

“No, you look… beautiful,” Obi Wan blurted out. And he immediately flushed. _Dammit, that sounds like something Anakin would say when he was a padawan._

The corners of Ventress’s mouth quirked up in a smile.

Kenobi went back to frying his flatbread. He could sense Ventress standing behind him though.

“Tatooinian flatbread,” he explained, assuming that’s why she was standing there. “Do you want me to show you how to make it?”

“No… I mean, maybe,” Ventress hesitated. “Ky Narec was my Master.”

Obi Wan froze.

“My Jedi Master, I mean,” Ventress continued, her voice hollow. Vulnerable. Obi Wan could tell it took her great effort to tell him this.

Obi Wan put down the frying pan and turned around. Ventress had one hand hugging her body, her fingers moving anxiously on the other. She looked up at him, her pale blue eyes guarded, unreadable.

Obi Wan wrapped her up in a hug. He didn’t know who Ky was or what happened between him and Ventress, but he knew that just thinking of him was reopening old wounds. “Thank you for telling me,” he whispered.

He felt her arms slowly reach up and wrap lightly around his back, then he felt her start to shake. He gripped her tighter.

“It’s been so many years,” Ventress whispered, her voice strained. Obi Wan could feel hot tears on his shoulders where she was leaning in to him. “Why does it still hurt?”

Obi Wan wanted to tuck her under his robes, keep her warm and safe where no one would ever hurt her again, hide her from this cruel world that had caused so much pain to them both.

“Because it was love,” he said. _Only love has the power to destroy us in this way._

His thoughts were brought back to the present, however, when an acrid burning smell filled the kitchen.

“Oh no, the flatbread!” he exclaimed. Obi Wan slowly released Ventress from his hold, and with a sheepish chuckle, he turned back towards the flatbread that was currently smoldering on the stove.

He groaned and tossed it into the bin.

“I think you have enough flatbread Obi Wan, you’re not feeding a Hutt.”

“Well I was going to make some to take on the road with us tomorrow –“ Obi Wan started, but then stopped as he saw Ventress’s weary, red-rimmed eyes.

“ – but I guess it can wait,” he said with a smile, and grabbed the plate full of fully-cooked flatbread and the cactus fruit he had picked earlier and motioned for Ventress to sit down in the front room with him.

As they ate, Obi Wan gave a run down of the logistics of travelling to Mos Eisley.

“Unfortunately I don’t own a ship or speeder of any sort, but I could easily call up a bantha to give us a ride. There is one herd in particular that is quite familiar with me, and we shouldn’t be a burden for a beast of such size,” he explained in between mouthfuls.

Asajj simply nodded and ate her flatbread in silence, picking it apart into small pieces before placing it in her mouth.

“It should take us around two rotations to make it to the spaceport.” Obi Wan hesitated. “I will drop you off at the edge of town, I try to stay away from civilization as much as I possibly can, if that is alright with you.”

“I understand,” Ventress replied somberly. She chewed, contemplatively. “Where will we be staying the night during our journey?”

“Ah, there is a town called Bestine along the way, but I’m afraid with such recent Imperial activity, I don’t want to risk staying at an inn there. I still have my old military tent, though, and a sleeping bag and sleeping roll, if you are up for it.” He paused, awkwardly. “It is... a one-person tent, however. And just one sleeping bag.”

He mentally braced himself for whatever biting remark Ventress had in store for him, but she simply agreed. “That will do.”

He looked up, surprised. He would have imagined Ventress would be more high-maintenance when it came to her personal needs, her being employed by Dooku for so long (who was the _king_ of extravagance), but she was surprisingly easy going.

“It-it will?” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Of course. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

He folded his hands in his lap while he waited for her to finish her meal, and then cleared the table. When he returned, Ventress had already lay down on the bed, wrapping herself in the bantha hide.

“Well, I’ll be sleeping downstairs tonight,” Obi Wan told her, motioning towards the trap door. Ventress peered at him curiously over the top of the bantha hide. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Why?” she asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You won’t be bothering me, it seems like it’d be much more comfortable and convenient for you to sleep up here, even if it was on the ground. Or _I_ could sleep on the ground. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“No, I…” Obi Wan scratched his head. “I’m a terrible snorer. Trust me, you’d wish I was sleeping somewhere else once you heard me.”

“Ok, then,” Ventress said, still sounding not convinced. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Obi Wan bid her farewell, and lifted the trap door to climb down the stairs.

He shivered and hugged himself as the trap door closed above him. Through a sliver of light that still shone down from above, he could see puffs of his own breath.

Down the stairs, all he could see was darkness. As if a writhing mass of spectres waited for him with outstretched hands saying _Welcome back, we’ve missed you. Ready to get back to your_ real _life? Ready for some more_ suffering?

Obi Wan shuddered as he anticipated what the night had in store for him. He took a deep breath and descended the steps. Time to face his demons.


	4. Memories and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan has recurring nightmares about That Day. Ventress and Obi Wan open up about their pasts as they start the journey to Mos Eisley. They fear they may not be as safe here as they thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, again I am so incredibly touched by your continued support, you guys are all amazing and I love reading all the comments so so much! <3
> 
> I really apologize for how late this chapter has been in relation to the others, I just got through the most difficult two weeks of my program, I guess they call it programming "bootcamp" for a reason. I DO have a one week break in another weeks though so hopefully more will get done then and I can get back on track! 
> 
> Also just a shameless plug that if you want to find me on Tumblr and talk Ventrobi because I am always like 110% down, I am midnight-on-dathomir. ^^
> 
> Anyways, here it is, the next chapter, still setting things up, but we're getting closer to the REAL fun :)

Ventress woke up only a few hours after she had laid down. The light was still on _._ No wonder she woke up so soon. She crawled out of the warm cocoon of the bantha hide blanket and walked across the room to flip the switch by the door.

She stood still for a moment, listening to the desert through the thin durasteel door. The swell of rushing winds outside, the stirring of sand, the cry of a krayt dragon off in the distance.  And then, something that was coming from inside.

Ventress reached out with the Force to heighten her senses. It was coming from the basement. The rustling of fabric. A body tossing and turning on a sleeping pad. Incomprehensible words, spoken under the spell of sleep.

Curious, Ventress walked over to the trap door and descended the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

Obi Wan hadn’t had these nightmares in a while.

For the hundredth time it seemed, he stood on the blackened hillside of Mustafar, lava rushing in a fiery river below him, Anakin a dark figure against the orange glow of magma.

“Anakin,” Obi Wan pleaded with him desperately, “Please, I don’t want to fight.”

But he had little hope that his padawan would listen. He knew what would happen, what had happened the innumerable times before when he’d had this dream.

Obi Wan felt hollow, alone. He had failed and now there was no one left to help him. No Jedi Order. No Republic. _Because of Anakin._ Obi Wan knew now that he had refused to see the darkness that was growing inside his padawan, choosing instead to see only the light, all that he loved about him. But he was wrong, and now it was too late. _Qui Gonn, I wish you were still here. You would know what to do._

Obi Wan dropped his hands to his sides in defeat. There had to be some way to end this without killing Anakin. Obi Wan couldn’t bear to do it again, even though he knew it was just a dream. He couldn’t stand to hear his padawan’s agonizing screams, knowing that he was the one who caused it. _Force, have compassion on my fallen padawan._ _Let there be another way…_

Suddenly he felt a warm, gentle hand on his back. “Obi Wan,” spoke a woman’s deep voice.

Obi Wan inhaled sharply. Had the Force finally heard him?  

“Obi Wan!” It repeated, urgently.

He turned around, hope swelling in his chest, and –

Obi Wan blinked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. There were no molten flames here, no scorched hillside. Only the cold floor of his basement and Asajj Ventress kneeling over him, a concerned look on her face.

Obi Wan quickly wiped his eyes and straightened out the blankets that had become twisted around him in his sleep. “V-ventress, is everything alright?”

She just looked at him with a curious look on her face. Pity. Understanding. She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him to a standing position. “Come on, it’s freezing down here,” she said.

Obi Wan wordlessly allowed himself to be pulled up. Ventress grabbed his hand protectively, gave him an authoritative look, and led him toward the stairs.

Obi Wan could barely tell if he was dreaming or if this was reality, the whole situation just seemed so bizarre. Did she really come downstairs just to check on him? Did she actually _care_ about him? Still clumsy with sleep, he concentrated instead on the task of placing one foot in front of the other as he ascended the stairwell.  

After they had emerged from the trapdoor into the living room, Ventress stopped in her tracks and spoke up quietly.

“I know what it’s like to lose my people too,” she began. “The Nightsisters took me in after Dooku abandoned me,” she explained, looking down at the ground now. “They all died. Killed by his army.”

Obi Wan was shocked, he could only stare.

“For most of my life I would have been glad to see the same thing happen to the Jedi, in fact it was my _purpose_ in life, but now,“ she shrugged and looked at him with a sad, apologetic smile. “All I feel is that, it’s a shame that they’re gone.”

“I-it is?” he stammered out in surprise. “I mean, do you really mean that?”

Ventress looked slightly offended and gave him a sorrowful smile. “Of course I do.”

“Sorry Ventress, I didn’t mean it like that,” Obi Wan frantically tried to apologize, “It’s just such a shock after everything –“

Ventress sighed and interrupted him by grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bed. “You need to get some sleep, Kenobi.”

She unfolded the bantha hide and pointed at it sternly, commanding Obi Wan to get in, and he obediently complied. After a moment’s hesitation, he felt the bed sink down slightly as Ventress climbed in beside him.

“Don’t think I was going to give this blanket up just because you were cold too,” she scowled as he looked at her in surprise. She immediately closed her eyes and made a point of trying to sleep.

He smiled at her. “Thank you, Ventress.”

She merely grunted in response.                                      

Silently, he watched as her facial features relaxed, and then she slowly drifted off to sleep. She looked much more peaceful when she slept, he thought. Entranced by the sight, he found himself staying awake for a while, studying the texture of her skin, the intricate tattoos around her eyes, her lips. Encased in warmth and soothed by the sounds of Ventress’s soft breathing, Obi Wan slowly drifted off to sleep, and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

 

Ventress was surprised to find that she woke before Obi Wan.

She turned over to look over at him, chest rising and falling slowly under his beige tunic, mouth slightly parted above his beard. Was she growing soft in her old age? Why did she feel such compassion for this Jedi?

 _He’s alone_ , she told herself, _Didn’t you wish you had someone there for you after your clan died? Someone who cared?_

She lay there, contemplative, basking in the warmth of the blankets until she started to feel restless, and then quietly slipped out from under the covers. She shivered as her bare feet hit the floor. _Doesn’t Obi Wan have any socks around here?_

She crept over to the large wooden chest where she had seen him pull out his spare set of clothes the day before. _Maybe they’d be in here…_

Ventress knelt on the ground and opened the chest. Books, data cards, holopads, some beige tabards it looked like, and something metallic, cylindrical… Skywalker’s lightsaber.

She quickly ran to the refresher and tried to pretend that she hadn’t just invaded Obi Wan’s privacy and seen something that she was sure she wasn’t supposed to. Her heart pounded as she shut the door behind her.

 _If Obi Wan has Skywalker’s lightsaber, he must have been there when Skywalker died,_ she deduced. Although she had never been fond of Skywalker, she knew he and Obi Wan were practically inseparable. His loss must have been devastating for Obi Wan. Her heart ached for him. She knew what that was like, all too well.

She washed up quickly and tried to regain her composure before stepping back out into the living room. Obi Wan stirred when he heard the doors open. 

“I didn’t know you were the type to sleep in,” she teased him.

He sat up and turned to look at her, bleary eyed, his hair a mess. He blinked a couple times and yawned.

“I guess being unemployed in the middle of the desert changes a man,” he replied with a smile, running his fingers through his hair. He stretched and then slowly climbed out of bed.

“I’m assuming my ship has cooled down enough by now,” Ventress remarked.

“I’m sure of it. You want to go?”

“Yes, I’d like to see if there’s anything I can salvage.”

Obi Wan nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s go after breakfast.”

The rest of the morning passed quietly. After breakfast, Obi Wan outfitted his backpack with their supplies, and gave Ventress a large sack to store her dirty laundry and whatever else she could salvage from her ship. By the time they departed, it was almost midday.

 “You carried me all this way?” Ventress asked as they trudged up the hill and towards the canyon. The suns burned brightly and Ventress was starting to sweat from the heat.

“Yes, it was quite the task. You’re heavier than you look.”

Ventress scowled. “You must be growing soft now that you’re not in the army anymore. When was the last time you trained?”

“I still practice my forms now and again. But it’s been years since I’ve practiced against a real opponent.”

“I’d be curious to see how our skills match up now that we’re both slow and out of practice,” Ventress smiled.

“It’d be my pleasure to take you up on that offer, as long as you promise not to kill me,” Obi Wan smirked.

“Now why would I ever do that?”

Suddenly, Obi Wan held out his arm and stopped Ventress in her tracks. Alarmed, she followed his gaze down the canyon and saw her ship – but it wasn’t alone.

A probe droid with a round head, spindly legs and a giant red eye was circling the charred remains of her ship. It seemed to take particular interest in the hole that Obi Wan had cut in the roof with his lightsaber. _Oh no._

“Get down,” Obi Wan whispered urgently, and pulled Ventress behind a large boulder.

Ventress peered around the edge of the rock – the probe droid floated away from the ship towards the opposite side of the canyon, where a black clad figure stood. It held out its arm out for the droid to land on, whispering and stroking it like a pet. The figure wore a pointed helmet and had yellow skin. _The female Inquisitor._

Ventress gasped and ducked her head behind the rock, turning to Obi Wan with a pained look.

“It’s all my fault, I’ve led them straight to you.”

Obi Wan was tight-lipped and quiet. Ventress tried to gauge his emotions but she couldn’t read them, even in the Force. They were too conflicted.

“Let’s leave as soon as she’s out of view,” was his only reply.

Once the Inquisitor left, they emerged cautiously from behind the rock, and walked quickly in the other direction. Ventress glanced longingly at her ship, filled with sorrow and guilt, but forced herself to turn away and jogged up to Obi Wan.

He didn’t speak, so they walked in silence.

She didn’t know where they were anymore, but it wouldn’t help anyways if she did. She didn’t know the way to the Spaceport without a navigational computer, and the only one she had was a blackened crisp by now. One advantage to working with a Jedi as opposed to a bounty hunter (or worse, a Sith, she thought wryly) is that they would never double-cross you, and she had full faith that Obi Wan would never betray her. The only question is if Obi Wan really knew the way as well as he claimed he did. If not, this could turn out to be a real interesting journey.  

After a while, she could see large brown shapes in the distance. They were clustered together, and moving slowly. A herd of bantha. They were getting a mount, Ventress realized.

As they approached, the beasts began to slowly move away, suspicious of the outsiders.

“I don’t think this is working,” Ventress frowned. She was never particularly good at getting animals to trust her.

Ignoring Ventress’s comment, Obi Wan walked up to the closest bantha with his hand outstretched. It snorted in warning, but stayed still. He began whispering assurances to it: that they meant no harm, that they needed it’s help; that he would reward it with tasty food if it would lend its strength to them for this journey.

The animal calmed down and huffed, then slowly plodded towards them, stirring up clouds of sand behind it. Obi Wan held out both his hands now, palms turned up, and the animal came to rest its snout in his hands. Obi Wan smiled and stroked its fur.

Ventress smiled to herself. It was quite endearing to watch him befriend this creature. She knew about the Jedi’s animal friendship, but had never seen it in action before. To witness it firsthand was quite incredible. She wasn’t lying when she spoke to him last night. It really was a shame that the Jedi were gone.

“This one’s agreed to help us out,” Obi Wan announced with a smile.

“How nice,” Ventress replied with a cautious smile. She was still feeling guilty, but relaxed a bit now that the tension seemed to be gone from Obi Wan’s voice.

Obi Wan pulled a blanket out from his pack and draped it over the top of the bantha, and the two of them used the Force to jump up onto its back. The beast grunted as each of them landed.

“Sorry buddy,” Obi Wan said as he patted the bantha’s shoulder, “We’ll try and be more gentle next time.”

Obi Wan sat in front and Ventress climbed up behind him. She squinted at the two glowing orbs in the sky. “Really wish I had some sunscreen right about now,” she grumbled.

“You Nightsisters don’t tan, do you,” Obi Wan remarked, sounding slightly amused.

“No, we just burn.”

Obi Wan reached around for his backpack and dug through it to pull out another brown Jedi robe. He handed it to Ventress over his shoulder.

“Here. I brought an extra one for you,”

Ventress took the robe and slipped it on, pulling the hood over her face. It was a bit stuffy in the heat, but it did the job of blocking the light. “Thanks,” she murmured appreciatively.

“It’ll be a better disguise for you as well,” Obi Wan added. “I’m going to need you to keep your face covered as much as you can, unfortunately your tattoos are quite recognizable.”

“I will, and I know,” Ventress grimaced. “This isn’t my first time in hiding, after all.”

“What do your tattoos mean, anyways?” Obi Wan asked.

“They’re battle tattoos. I got them when I became queen of Rattatak,” Ventress replied.

“Queen, huh?” Obi Wan mused. “You seem to be adjusting to life in my hovel quite well for royalty.”

“I hardly think of myself as royalty,” she huffed, “I have no interest in lineage or royal pedigree like Dooku does. I became queen by killing the twelve warlords, to serve them the justice that no one else did. Conqueror or Vanquisher would have been more accurate descriptions than Queen, I was only concerned with giving those scums what they deserved.”

“Warlords are hardly decent people, but these must have been exceptionally bad,” Obi Wan inferred.

“Their war did nothing but make the people suffer for their greed,” Ventress grimaced, her voice hard and emotions guarded. “When Master Ky became just another casualty in their quest for power, I decided I had enough. I went straight to the source of the suffering, and took them out. That’s when I first realized I had a talent for being an assassin. I had lost patience for the peaceful ways of the Jedi, I’m afraid.”

“So Ky was killed,” Obi Wan murmured in sympathy. “I’m so sorry Ventress.”

She was silent, just drew circles with her finger on top of the blanket.

Obi Wan continued, “Were you ever at the Jedi Temple back then? We must have been padawans at about the same time. I don’t remember ever seeing you, though.”

Ventress snorted. “No, I’ve never been inside the temple. My master was stranded on Rattatak while doing work for the Order, but no one came to rescue him. He found me there, trained me, and died there. Seems like there’s little reward for the life of a Jedi.”

Obi Wan let out a dry laugh. “You can say that again.”

Ventress lifted her head, looking at him in pity.

“Why do you do it?” Ventress asked him. “Obi Wan, you’ve tried to do the right thing all your life and look what it’s gotten you. Nothing but self-sacrifice and misery. I see the books on your shelf, and the way you live as if you were still a Jedi. Haven’t you ever wanted anything more for yourself?”

“Believe me Ventress, there have been times when I’ve thought about leaving the Order.” He replied thoughtfully. “But I guess what it comes down to is, I made a promise.” He paused. “And then I made another one.” He laughed. “Maybe I should stop making promises.”

“All for a promise?” Ventress asked in disbelief.

Obi Wan hesitated before he spoke. “You may not know this, but I lost my master as well. He used his dying breath to tell me to train Anakin. So I was knighted and became Anakin’s master. Any thought of leaving the Order was gone under the weight of my new responsibility” He paused, as if just realizing it himself. “I did it because of Anakin.”

“And now Anakin’s dead,” Ventress spoke tentatively.

“Yes. Now he’s dead,” Obi Wan echoed her.

“This… being the Last Jedi thing… this was your promise to Anakin?”

Obi Wan thought about it for a moment. “No, not directly at least. But I guess you could say it’s something he would have wanted me to do, if he were still here.”

His answers were vague, and did little to satisfy Ventress’s curiosity. She still had many questions for him, but it didn’t feel right to ask them just now, when he was still obviously grieving. Instead, she just cautiously wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head gently on his shoulder. When Obi Wan didn’t move or try and push her away, she tightened her grip, wrapping him up in an embrace.

“I’m sorry about Skywalker,” she said softly.

He placed a hand lightly on top of hers, and ran his thumb across her fingers. “Me too,” he replied.


	5. Journey to the East

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ventress and Obi Wan question their life decisions. Vader makes an alarming discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!! Thanks everyone for your comments, support, and patience... I think I should give up on having any semblance of a regular update schedule because apparently life doesn't let it work out that way. ;_; But just know that this ship is my life! I am constantly thinking about this fic even if I can't always find the time to type this out. ^^
> 
> Chapter title is a play on Journey to the West because I'm Chinese and I love that story.

Hours passed slowly, maddeningly, surrounded by nothing but white sand. If it weren’t for Kenobi’s continued optimism, Ventress would have likely resigned herself to lie face down in the sand and give up on ever reaching civilization again. As it was, it wasn’t unusual for her to groan and tug at her hair, leaning on Obi Wan and bemoaning the emptiness of their surroundings. Obi Wan would only chuckle and tease her saying patience would come easier to her if she had bothered to finish her Jedi training. At first Ventress pouted and socked him in the ribs, but then she gave up even that, and sprawled across the back of the bantha like a dead lizard.

The twin suns sank lower towards the horizon, scattering the canyons and sand dunes with an orange glow, and casting long shadows on their trail.

Slowly, Ventress sat up, sitting backwards on the bantha now, her back leaning against Kenobi’s, idly ruffling and then smoothing out the fibers on blanket they were sitting on.

“Do you ever feel like your life is just one big mistake?” Ventress asked wryly, squinting into the sunset.

“Oh come on now, journeying with me isn’t _that_ bad now, is it?” Obi Wan asked from behind her. Ventress felt a pleasant thrill pass through her body as she felt the vibrations of his voice through their shared contact.

“No, I just meant… how could I mess it up so bad?” Ventress moaned, burying her face in her hands. “I could have been queen of my own planet, I could _still_ be queen, if I had never gotten overly ambitious and sought out the Sith. I could have lived a comfortable life. Now I’m here, living like _this”_ she gestured to the wasteland around them, “on the run, never able to show my face in public again.”

“Is it worse to learn from your mistakes? To live according to your passions, and see where your true feelings take you… or is it worse to be left wondering, about all the chances you didn’t take?” Obi Wan asked, with an air of melancholy.

“I think I know what your answer would be,” Ventress grumbled.

“I may be a Jedi, but I am also a man,” Obi Wan retorted. “Believe it or not, I once thought about leaving the Order. I wonder now, what my life would have been like. If it would have been… better. For my sake, and for the sake of the galaxy.”

Ventress turned around, her curiosity piqued. “Why did you want to leave the Order?”

Obi Wan hesitated. “There was a woman –“

He instantly felt Ventress lean in closer, listening rapt with attention, her face almost touching his shoulder.

Blushing, he continued, “When I was a padawan, the duchess of Mandalore and I spent a lot of time together while I was on a mission there. We had a sort of mutual attraction –“

“A ‘crush’, Obi Wan,” Ventress groaned, “You had a crush on the Duchess of Mandalore. Not ‘mutual attraction’, who talks like that –“

“ _Anyways_ ,” Obi Wan cut in out of embarrassment, “I didn’t think it my place to confess to her, after all, she was royalty, and I was a nobody – a Jedi who didn’t know his lineage, not worthy of her by far – I didn’t realize until much later that she had feelings for me as well. I spent all that time waiting for her to give me the word, to tell me anything that would let me know she felt the same, and by the time she did, it was the Clone Wars, we had changed, I was already so invested in the Order, I had Anakin… and then it was too late.” He paused, turning towards Ventress. “She died because of _me_.”

“What do you mean?” Ventress asked, wide-eyed.

“Maul killed her to get revenge on me. Her last words were that she loved me. I… never said those words to her.”

Ventress could sense how vulnerable he had made himself. How empty and hollow he felt. She ran her hand up and down his arm as reassurance.

“You’ve never told this to anyone before, have you,” she spoke up, finally.

Obi Wan shook his head.

“What was her name?” Ventress asked.

“Satine.”

“Satine,” Ventress repeated. “What is worse indeed,” she mused. “To be branded a traitor by one of the most powerful beings in the universe, have the blood of thousands on your hands, or to lose your true love for the sake of an Order that ultimately collapses due to it’s own corruption…”

“I assume you’ve had many lovers, Ventress.”

“Hmm, define lovers. Definitely had a few suitors, during my time as queen. But I would hardly count them as lovers. I never really felt a _real_ connection to any of them, although some were kind, all were definitely attractive,” she smiled. “Maybe it’s a force-sensitive thing, I don’t know. I never really felt the deep kind of connection with them that I had yearned for.” She laughed nervously. “I’ve never told anyone about that before, now that you know I might have to kill you,” she joked.

“Please, Ventress, who would I tell, the banthas?” Obi Wan rolled his eyes. “That’s the advantage of being friends with a hermit like me.”

“Are we officially friends now?” Ventress crooned, wrapping her arms around his waist again, and he blushed at her contact. “I can tell everyone I’m friends with a Jedi?”

“Yes, I’d say we’re friends, and no, don’t you _dare_ tell anyone!” Obi Wan replied, flustered.

Ventress cackled. “I’m kidding of course.” But then she leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Or am I? Didn’t your masters teach you never to trust a Sith?”

Obi Wan scoffed. “You were never even a real Sith to begin with.”

“Hey! You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ventress pouted, crossing her arms.

“Plus you can’t blow my cover without blowing yours, you would never tell anyone I’m here.”

“You put your life in danger the moment you took me in, Obi Wan,” Ventress replied solemnly. “Someday your compassion will be your undoing.”

“You act like you don’t care about anyone or anything, but you don’t fool me Ventress, I know you care for me,” Obi Wan taunted.

“Do not!” she protested. “I’m only being civil because you’re my ride to the spaceport. After that, I have no need of you,” she huffed.

Obi Wan was silent. _Oh no,_ Ventress panicked, _is he upset now? Is he going to throw me off the bantha and leave me to fend for myself?_

“We’ll see about that,” he said quietly.

_Kriff._ Ventress berated herself. _You made_ one _friend and now you have to mess it up, didn’t you._ Her stomach sank. _Fix it,_ a voice in her head told her urgently, _Come on Ventress, you can fix this situation still…_

“I mean, I do think of you as a friend, though – I would _like_ to be friends, still – so if that means I care, then fine,” she stammered out, and blushed. “And no, I would never reveal your hiding place, Obi Wan.”

So much for having the upper hand. So much for leverage.

“Don’t worry Ventress, I would never take advantage of your kindness,” Obi Wan replied, evidently sensing her discomfort. “And thank you. I am very honored to call you a friend.”

Ventress tentatively reached out again to wrap her arms around his waist. Obi Wan placed on hand on top of hers again, and ran his fingers across the back of her hand. Shivers ran down her spine. They were getting very comfortable with each other… very… comfortable…

 

“Ventress, wake up. I need to get down now.”

Ventress snapped her eyes open and saw darkness. Felt the cold air against her back. She had fallen asleep with her head on Kenobi’s shoulder, hands falling loose in his lap, the rough fabric of his robe making an indent on the side of her face and … drool? Alarmed, Ventress sat up and wiped her mouth and with horror, saw a dark wet spot on Obi Wan’s robe where she had laid. Quickly, she tried to wipe it off and hope he wouldn’t notice. If he did, he didn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes, scooting back so that he could dismount, and then as she saw him removing the tent from his backpack, she followed suit and jumped down herself.

“Are we camping out here?” she inquired.

“Yes, there’s a nice group of hills over here that will conceal our location, and a patch of grasses for the bantha.”

The bantha, however, did not seem too interested in the grass for now. It merely stood, swaying slightly, eyes blinking sleepily as it mooed under its breath.

Ventress pulled the edges of her borrowed robe and wrapped them tightly around herself as a chill wind blew across her face.

“Do you need help?” she inquired.

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” Obi Wan replied, grunting as he struggled to push the tent poles down into the dry hard ground.

Ventress watched him, shifting her feet impatiently in the cold. As she saw the tent begin to take shape, she went ahead and unclipped the sleeping bag and mat from his backpack, unrolling them and draping them over her arms, holding them out and waiting for Obi Wan to finish with the tent.

He turned around with a mild look of surprise to see her holding his things, but smiled and took them from her.

“Thank you,” he grinned, and ducked inside the tent flap to lay out their bed.

Ventress picked up the backpack and her own satchel and joined him inside.

The inside of the tent was dark, but the thin walls did a decent job of blocking the wind. Ventress crept along the perimeter, staying out of Obi Wan’s way, and set the backpack and satchel on the floor. She removed her boots and sat cross-legged with her elbow on her knee and chin in her hand, watching Obi Wan arrange the sleeping bag. He had unzipped it and lay if flat across the sleeping mat, making it more suitable to cover the two of them. As he straightened it out, he sighed.

“I hope this will be warm enough, the nights get pretty cold and nasty out here,” he warned her.

“If we both wear these robes to bed it should help a little.”

“We’ll see, if it gets too cold we can explore other options.”

Obi Wan swept his arm in a welcoming gesture. “After you, my darling.”

Ventress crawled over to the sleeping bag and lifted up the corner. Before laying down on the mat, she frowned.

“I feel like you’re using me to warm up the bed for you. It’s freezing!” she complained.

Obi Wan got a shocked look on his face. “I was doing no such thing! I was merely trying to be chivalrous.”

“You need to get in here the same time as me, it’s only fair,” Ventress demanded.

“Fine, on the count of three. One… two… three!”

Both of them quickly dove under the sleeping bag and threw the covers back over themselves. They lay curled up on their sides, facing each other, teeth chattering and shivering. Ventress began to giggle as she saw Obi Wan’s face, scrunched up in discomfort from the cold. He met her eyes, and, seeing her in such an innocent and unguarded state, began to laugh himself, which only made her laugh all the harder.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you laugh before,” Obi Wan spoke up softly.

“Sure you have,” Ventress replied, confused.

“But not like this. This was pure, free of malice or cruelty.”

“Stop insulting me.”

“I liked it.”

“Obi Wan, you seem to think I am a better person that I really am.”

“Or maybe you’re the one who refuses to see the good in yourself.”

“Whatever, I give up, Kenobi. Call me what you want, I don’t live for anyone else’s opinion but my own.” Ventress rolled onto her back, closing her eyes as she tried to fall asleep.

 

 

Obi Wan stared at her for a moment with a sad look on his face. _I hope you can see someday what others see in you._ Well, maybe not all others (Anakin, for example, _hated_ her). But he could speak for himself.

Ventress, for one, was never one to harm innocents (as far as he knew). All her crimes during the war were either towards soldiers, Jedi, or underworld scum. To be honest, he could see where she was coming from. In her eyes, all she had been doing was exacting justice – albeit a wrathful, misinformed, and unforgiving justice. But he had always had a soft spot for her. He recognized that he could have been very close to meeting her same fate, if he hadn’t been given the task of training Anakin. If, after Qui Gonn died, he had continued down the same road of rage and anguish that had led him to cut down Darth Maul… he could very easily have been in her place. He wondered if he should tell her that. _All in due time_ , he thought.

_Two nights down, one to go._ Obi Wan’s heart squeezed inside his chest. He was running out of time. If he wanted to tell her, he had to do it soon – tell her _what,_ exactly? That he liked having her in his life. That seeing her made him smile, and gave him a rush of excitement, a reason to live and see what the thrill of the day would bring him when he was with her. That he cared about her. Dare he say… love?

_Jedi are forbidden from such things…_ Obi Wan told himself instinctually. But was he even a Jedi anymore? There was no order… All that was left was him and the Force, and ghosts of the past. And _her._ She was still here. She was another living testament that the Jedi were here, they had existed, in this desert where few had seen one in their lives. Even though she had left that path far behind her, even though she had actively crusaded against them, it was still comforting to know of their shared past. Their shared heritage.

_Jedi are allowed to love, just not attachment_ … But it was too late. He was most definitely attached to her. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and take her home, take her with him into his tiny pathetic little world, and make her the light that shone in the endless night that had become his reality. He needed her. He wanted her all to himself. He knew he should hold back, restrain himself, meditate until those feelings ebbed away, but at the same time he felt that pang of regret. Satine and Anakin, who never knew of his feelings until it was too late. And Ventress, she seemed to be doing fine now but, her life was in just as much danger as his now that the Empire was in power. He had to tell her. He _had_ to… _Tomorrow, then,_ he promised himself. _I’ll tell her tomorrow._

Tell her what, exactly, he hadn’t decided yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Seventh Sister couldn’t breathe. She grasped at her neck as she suspended above the ground, lifted up by an invisible force. Her vision was being clouded by black dots. She dropped, suddenly, collapsing to her knees on the ground and gasping for breath, rubbing the sore spot around her neck.

“You should have informed me immediately that Kenobi was on Tatooine, not waited until you had arrived back on Coruscant. He could be half a galaxy away by now,” Darth Vader reprimanded her, pacing back and forth in front of her, his hands behind his back.

“I’m sorry, my Lord…” Seventh Sister gasped, “I wanted to follow protocol, make sure it was really him on the recording before –“

 “You know how much of a priority Kenobi is to me,” Vader interrupted her, stopping in his tracks to glare at her.

As Seventh Sister lifted her head to meet his gaze, she could just see the amber eyes that bored down on her from beneath those dark lenses. “But the Emperor insists – “

“You answer to _me_ first, then the Emperor,” Vader cut her off again, raising voice and jabbing an accusatory finger at her.

“Yes, my Lord,” Seventh Sister replied with a resigned voice, and submissive bow of her head.

She felt a rush of wind as Vader whirled around, his cape billowing behind him, and she let out a sigh of relief. Her torture was over, for now.

He gave her no thanks for the video footage she captured at the scene of Ventress’s felled ship, of two robed figures on the opposite side of the canyon who quickly disappeared behind a rock. She expected no less, Vader very sparingly gave out compliments. He saw no need to leave her with any parting words, only stormed out of the room, demanding of his officers that his TIE fighter be prepped for the journey to Tatooine.

When time was of the essence, Vader only trusted himself to make a journey in record time. His talent as a pilot was a well known fact throughout all the Imperial ranks. But another fact was just as well known about the Emperor’s enforcer. That when it came to Kenobi, his judgment became clouded – he jumped to conclusions, chasing ghosts and shadows halfway across the galaxy, following the slightest hint of a lead, trusting instinct over evidence, in hopes that he would be able to exact revenge on his former master.

Seventh Sister hoped that this time Vader was right, that the tiny blurred shadow caught in her holo footage on Tatooine was indeed Obi Wan Kenobi, and that soon Vader could dispose of him. The sooner he got rid of Kenobi, the sooner her and her brothers would be free from getting caught in the wake of his dangerous obsession.


	6. Krayt Pearls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Krayt dragon wanders near Obi Wan and Ventress's campsite. Calamity ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the many reasons I love this ship: the exploration of what happens when two people with very different worldview's and moral beliefs work together. 
> 
> Obi Wan is very by-the-book Jedi Code follower, although he does have a weakness for attachment and turning a blind eye to the faults of people he loves. Asajj is very opportunistic and her morals are more based in survival, she doesn't seem to have any sort of higher ideals except she does whatever is good for her or bad for people that have hurt her. 
> 
> Can this relationship work? I don't know but I'm sure as hell going to enjoy the journey. 
> 
> Thanks again for everyone who is still reading this in 2017! Times are crazy right now, especially in the US, and I'm really flattered to whoever makes time to read my little fic <3

A loud shriek rang through the night, causing Obi Wan and Ventress to bolt up from their beds, wide awake.

“What was that?” Ventress hissed at him, eyes darting around the tent like a feral animal.

“The cry of a krayt dragon,” Obi Wan whispered, mind racing and already formulating a plan of escape should they need it.

“A krayt dragon?” Ventress’s tone changed to one of curiosity as her interest was suddenly piqued.

“Yes, a giant and vicious reptilian species that lives in the canyons. Why do you sound so excited?” Obi Wan asked her warily.

“The Force is smiling down on us tonight,” she said, and cackled in delight. “Come on Obi Wan, there’s no time to lose!”

Before he could react, Ventress had reached over Obi Wan’s body, snatched up his lightsaber, and was stepping into her boots and bolting out the door.

“Ventress, wait!” Obi Wan threw off the covers and slipped on his boots as well before running out into the night after her. _What in the world is she thinking?_

Amidst the Krayt dragon’s shrieking echoing in the canyon, he now heard some guttural grunts and shouts. _Tusken Raiders, too?_ There weren’t any Sandpeople around when Obi Wan first scouted the area, what were they doing there now?

He was weaponless now that Ventress had “borrowed” his lightsaber, in the Tatooinian outback in the middle of the night with countless Sandpeople and a Krayt dragon. Just what was Ventress getting into? _I have a bad feeling about this…_

He spotted Ventress pressed flat against a rock, still and silent, watching the fray in the canyon. A Krayt dragon reared its head and roared, screaming at the Tusken raiders that surrounded it, who wavered and shrank back at its cry. The dragon raised a giant clawed foot and with one powerful swipe, swatted two Sandpeople so that they hit the wall of the canyon, and fell to the ground, motionless. The dragon cried out again, this time rearing up on its hind legs, neck outstretched so it’s snout was silhouetted against the silver moon. The Tusken Raiders positively screamed now, scattering back into hiding among the crevasses of the canyon. Ventress just watched, eyes glinting with excitement.

“Ventress!” Obi Wan whispered to her forcefully, grabbing her arm. “Have you lost your mind? What are you doing out here? And _what_ do you need my lightsaber for?”

Ventress looked back at him with a mischievous grin. “Krayt dragon pearls are worth a fortune on the black market. If I can kill it and harvest its pearls, we’ll _both_ be set for life!”

“ _Money?”_ Obi Wan scoffed at her in disbelief. “You go out here in the middle of the night, risking your life, going out to kill an innocent creature for _money?”_

“It’s him or us!” Ventress snarled, her face contorted into a scowl. “I lost _everything_ in the crash, and _you –_ you live off a bag of flour for every meal. How long do you think that can sustain you? We can’t afford to be sympathetic to all life forms as the Jedi were. The fight for all living beings is that of survival, it is the essence of living, the essence of the Force. And _I,_ ” she emphasized her words by jabbing a thumb at her chest “- intend to survive.”

She whirled her head around to glance back towards the Krayt dragon. It was now stalking the length of the canyon, sniffing at the walls, searching for its Tusken assailants-turned-prey. Her body was tense, like a coil compressed and ready to spring at any moment.

“Ventress, this is not the answer!” Obi Wan grabbed her arm in frustration.

She snapped her head back to glare at him, and now her eyes were the fury of an ice dragon’s breath, her brows furrowed in anger, mouth tightened, a glimpse of the Ventress he knew all too well from the Clone Wars. The warrior, the assassin bent of revenge. His heart faltered for a moment, and his mouth fell open, slack jawed. She took that opportunity to break free of his grasp and spring into action.

“Ventress, no!” he called out, but to no avail.

Ventress ran to the mouth of the canyon and ignited the blue lightsaber, pointing it at the ground, standing tall with her legs in a proud warrior’s stance.

“Hey, you lumbering idiot!” she shouted at the dragon, and whipped her saber around to point straight at the dragon where it still crouched, sniffing the walls of the canyon for the concealed Sandpeople. It whirled its head around and saw Ventress with the lightsaber and roared. Obi Wan could feel the blast of its cry from where he stood, and it ruffled Ventress’s hair but she stood firm and unmoving.

She smiled once she had its attention, and raised the saber in a high right guard. “Get ready, you’ve never faced anyone like me before,” she said with a malicious grin that made Obi Wan’s stomach freeze. It was the same grin he’d seen on her face multiple times as she slaughtered his men, _smiling_ as she killed them. A face that he knew only reflected what truly still lived inside of her, as much as he’d like to deny it – an immense reservoir of dark power, waiting to be unleashed on the next thing that caught her wrath.

He reached out and could sense the dark energy swirling around her in the Force, and of all things she was using _his lightsaber_ to kill, for _greed_ , for the darkside. The thought of it made him feel queasy.

As he stared at the uncanny scene that unfolded in front of him, he stood speechless and frozen. Weary. How many times had he fought to keep the darkside at bay in members of the Jedi Order? And how many times had he failed? It didn’t matter how many times. All that mattered was the one time it broke his heart. The one time he had failed so spectacularly that even his own _padawan_ became a Sith Lord. _Truly, was there anything I could do, after all? Am I really so useless, helpless, against the darkside and those it ensnares?_

As the krayt dragon charged towards Ventress, she leapt onto the beast’s head and stabbed her blade unflinchingly into its eye. A spurt of blood and fluid sprayed up into the air, and the beast roared, rearing and bucking once again, and Ventress was thrown off but righted herself just in time to land on one side of the canyon cliffs. Breathing heavily and high on adrenaline, she grinned again in excitement and crouched, readying herself for when the beast staggered again towards her side of the canyon and leapt again – this time her target the other eye. The beast wailed and roared again, this time knocking its own head against the walls of the canyon, helpless without its vision. Ventress slammed into the cliff wall as well, and dropped to the canyon floor, lying motionless on her side. The dragon was still flailing around, maddened by pain, stumbling and crashing into boulders, and Obi Wan was about to rush out to check on Ventress when he saw her roll out of the way of a boulder that fell and threatened to crush her. She sat up, nursing her shoulder and flexing her ankle, but then she pressed herself against a crack in the canyon walls, watching intently, waiting for the dragon to reveal a fatal opening.

The dragon ceased it’s violent flailing and now paced slowly back and forth in the canyon. It cried weakly, head drooping so low it almost touched the canyon floor, out of its eyes flowing a thick sluggish stream of blood and puss, streaming like grotesque tears.

Eventually the dragon stopped pacing, and resigned itself to merely swaying in place, panting in pain. It was now that Ventress found the opening she was waiting for. She ran between the dragon’s front legs, positioning herself underneath its belly and thrust the saber up in between its ribs, and into its heart. The dragon let out a last croak of pain, its dying breath, and Ventress leapt to the side and out of the way as the dragon collapsed onto the canyon floor.

Ventress used the Force to push the beast over onto its side, exposing its belly. She gripped the hilt of Obi Wan’s lightsaber with both hands and cut a large incision low in its abdomen. She switched off the blade and lay it down on the ground, now getting on her hands and knees and pushing up the sleeves of her robes. She crouched and placed her hands on either side of the incision she made, pulling the flesh apart so that it’s organs bulged out and blood gushed red and warm onto her clothes – _his_ clothes – and trickled down over the lightsaber hilt. Ventress grumbled in mild annoyance, but then reached her hands into the animal’s carcass and smiled in satisfaction as she grabbed ahold of the animals entrails, tossing them steaming onto the ground beside her.

Obi Wan saw out of the corner of his eyes the Tusken Raiders now emerging from their hiding places. Obi Wan’s instinct was to run out and defend Ventress from them, but he noticed that as they approached her, they knelt and prostrated themselves on the ground in supplicating bows. Ventress, still engrossed in finding the dragon’s pearls, made no acknowledgement of them.

When she finally emerges from the belly of the beast, her arms and robes are soaked with blood up to the elbows, steaming vapor rising up into the moonlight. She’s cradling a small pouch in both her hands, and looking smug and very pleased with herself. Observing the Tusken Raiders bowing in submission around her, she used the force to pick up the lightsaber where it lay on the ground, dirtying it even more as she gripped it in her blood-drenched hand. She ignited it and swept it across her body in a flourish that made the Sandpeople tremble and press their bodies even lower into the ground.

“If you value your lives, you will take me back to your camp and draw me a bath,” she commanded them.

Chaos erupted as the Sandpeople bob their heads up and down and shout in compliance. Some run ahead back towards the camp, and some remain as her escorts, leading her behind them at a generous distance. She glanced back at Obi Wan, her expression unreadable.

“And you will allow my friend to come with me,” she commanded them once more.

More bobbing of heads and guttural cries as her guides acquiesced.

With a hesitant look back at their tent and bantha, Obi Wan emerged from the shadow of the rock, tucking his hands inside the sleeves of his robes, and followed the party. Ventress didn’t bother looking back at him, but he could sense her reaching out in the Force to make sure he was following them.

They were silent as they walked towards the Tusken camp, flanked by Sandpeople on either side. Ventress seemed strangely at home with them. Obi Wan guessed it wasn’t unusual for someone like her to feel at home with a warrior-like and hostile tribe. In a community where the strong rule and the weaker serve, she was a natural queen.

Ventress never let go of the pouch of pearls nor did she give back the lightsaber. As the Sandpeople ushered her into a long tent that had steam rising off the roof, Obi Wan halted and waited outside, reaching out into the Force in caution, making sure his senses were alert in case the Sandpeople decided to change their minds about their hospitality.

It was his first time being in the heart of a Tusken camp. He marveled at the force signature of their tribe – pride, suspicion, a drive and determination to survive. _Just like Ventress, alright._ Giant Mastiffs ran around like pets with the children, women with metal faceplates, only slits where their eyes must be. The Sandpeople never met his eyes, but then again with their faces being so well-covered, he could never be too sure that they weren’t watching from their peripheral vision.

He waited until he could barely keep his eyes open any longer. _What is taking her so long?_ He wondered. But he didn’t dare step into that tent without full knowledge that she was clothed.

“Obi Wan, come here” he heard her call out at last. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, and lifted up the tent flap to join her inside.

When he entered, Ventress was standing in front of the tent flap wearing a Tusken woman’s dress which fell to her wrists and ankles. Her hair was wet and slicked back against her scalp, and her hands were clasped around the hilt of his lightsaber, holding it out to him once he entered the tent. She had washed it, and it was now shone silver again in the light of the lantern that lit the tent.

He looked around, and saw that the clothes and robes he had lent her were lying flat on the ground, wet, most the blood having been washed out of them. On top of the Jedi robes he had lent her were the dragon’s pearls – red, green, and blue – that must have been why she was taking so long washing up; she was washing the clothes, lightsaber, and pearls as well.

Obi Wan looked down at the lightsaber she was returning to him, the one she had taken from him without permission, used to slaughter a wild animal for profit – “Thank you,” he said numbly.

She looked up at him sheepishly out of the corner of her eyes. “I hope you aren’t angry with me,” she said nervously, rubbing her arm.

 _Was she being serious right now? Acting like a blood-crazed warlord queen one minute and now acting like she was nervous about his approval?_ Obi Wan’s fatigue caught up with him and he couldn’t restrain his irritation with her any longer.

“Angry?” Obi Wan scoffed. “Why would I be angry? You took my lightsaber without my permission, and with full knowledge of my disapproval you proceeded anyways to kill an innocent creature, putting your own life and other lives at risk. And now you act like you didn’t know I would be angry?”

Ventress’s mouth had fallen open in shock, and her brows pinched together in an expression of hurt. She flinched, looking down at the ground, ashamed.

“You act like just because I’m a Jedi I will forgive you and fall for your…“ he gestured at her display of remorse, “Act of innocence and penitence – and I _will_ forgive you – but Ventress, this doesn’t change the fact that you took advantage of my kindness, and it’s my sword and my clothes that are now stained with the blood of that beast against my will.”

Ventress didn’t speak immediately, all Obi Wan could hear were her quick and shaky breaths. Then she stood up to her full height and stared straight into his eyes, full of pain and rage.

“Then forgive me for trying to save both our asses, too,” she said, her eyes full of blue fire, but her voice as cold as ice.

She whirled around and stalked over to pick up the pearls from where they lay on the pile of clothing, and dropped them into her dress pocket. She then draped the wet clothing over her arms and stormed out of the tent, brushing past Kenobi without another glance at him, her expression masked and as unreadable as the Tusken Raiders’s face-coverings.

Obi Wan quickly followed her out of the tent and towards the outskirts of the Tusken camp. The Sandpeople made no resistance to their departure, in fact, Obi Wan sensed what felt like a figurative sigh of relief from the tribe as they left.

Ventress walked quicker than usual, and Obi Wan had to jog intermittently to keep up. He didn’t dare say anything to her – although he had felt justified in telling her his feelings, he worried that he had damaged their friendship beyond repair.

He tentatively reached out with the Force to sense her emotions. Blinding rage, sadness, despair, a lump in her throat, a feeling almost choking her, suffocating – and he felt her shut off her emotions from him as she quickened her pace yet again.

“Ventress–“ Obi Wan started. His heart went out to her, despite how she had angered him, he couldn’t bear to see her suffer in silence.

But as soon as he spoke, Ventress broke out into a full run.  

“Ventress, don’t be ridiculous!” he shouted at her, then sighed when she made no attempt to stop. He grudgingly picked up his pace and trotted after her.

By the time he caught up, they were both back at the tent. Ventress was draping the wet clothes on the outside of the tent to dry, and then she ducked inside to grab the little sack that held her meager belongings, and began to stalk away from the tent and out into the desert, heading east.

Obi Wan’s heart squeezed in his chest, and he felt his stomach drop. _No, no, she can’t be leaving already, not like this._

“Ventress, wait!” he shouted after her, breathless, and ran in front of her to cut her off, grabbing her by her arms to stop her in her tracks and whirl her around to face him.

She didn’t look at him, and when he looked closer he could see that her eyes were brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry I lost my temper with you Ventress, I’m really tired – we’re _both_ really tired and probably not thinking straight,” Obi Wan apologized, ”Why don’t we both go back to the tent, get some sleep and then we can talk things over in the morning if we need to?”

Ventress still didn’t look at him, only furrowed her brows and shook her head. “Forgive me if I’m not very trusting Obi Wan, but last time I disappointed someone they tried to kill me twice and then slaughtered my entire village.”

Obi Wan was speechless. _How could she possibly compare me to Count Dooku?_ He frowned and opened his mouth to retort but she suddenly snapped both her arms back, using her elbows to break free from his grasp and continued walking away.

“Ventress, please,” Obi Wan pleaded with her again, and braced himself for rejection as he finally uttered the words that had been ghosting his lips for the past few days, “I want you to stay with me.”

Ventress stopped walking, but only turned to look back at him with a sad look on her face.

“You don’t want all of me, Obi Wan,” she said bitterly, “Only the parts you choose to see. The Jedi and Sith are natural enemies. Living with me will only end in disaster.”

She turned around and continued walking, and Obi Wan watched her, helplessly, his heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces with every step she took.

 _No, don’t go, I still haven’t told you… I was going to tell you tomorrow.._. _How did things go so wrong? And how am I_ always _too late?_

But Obi Wan had vowed to himself that this time, with her, it would be different. And Obi Wan didn’t intend on breaking a promise.

As a last resort, Obi Wan reached into the Force and channeled his thoughts, emotions, and all the energy he could muster to send one last message her way.

_I love you._

He saw Ventress’s tiny silhouette buckle over for a moment as she stumbled in the sand. She didn’t reply, just got back up and kept on walking.


	7. Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ventress finally meets up with Latts, but realizes she can't take the job offer. Obi Wan talks to animals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. So I actually really love it when ppl comment "update please." I've got a lot going on rn but writing this fic was exactly what I needed, so thanks for the reminder. Like, seriously. So keep it up guys. I love you.

After she had sold the first of the krayt pearls, Ventress got a motel room in Mos Eisley and didn’t leave for two days. Her body ached, she was exhausted, dehydrated – all around worn out from the trek and her exploits with the krayt dragon. She slept and slept, as much as she could muster, trying not to think about all that had transpired between her and Obi Wan – the fighting, her departure, his confession – it had all happened so fast and was too much for her weary mind to comprehend. 

It was late afternoon now – she hadn’t eaten all day and she was starving. She would burn through her money from the krayt pearl if she kept ordering in, so she made up her mind to finally leave her room. She sighed and rolled onto her belly, faced smushed into the thin sheets lining the mattress.

One moment you’re on top of the world, tasting victory on your lips, delighting in your own strength and ingenuity and the next it all crashes down and you fear you lost a friend. _Who cares,_ she chided herself, _when have you ever had friends anyways._

She curled up on her side. A voice within her, an innocent sounding voice, full of hope, one she almost didn’t recognize as herself countered, _Don’t be ridiculous,_ _h_ _e loves you._ _He told you so himself_ _._

She flopped over onto the other side with a scowl. A snarling beast that she knew all too well piped up, _A lot of men say they love you. Do you ever believe them for even one second?_

She balled her fists. _He’s different_ _,_ the innocent voice defended, _H_ _e’s saved you_ _r_ _life, and spared you_ _in battle_ _countless times! He’s a good man and you know it,_ _you’ve sensed it in the Force_ _. He_ does _mean it._  

Ventress rolled onto her back with a groan and placed a pillow over her face. “I need a drink,” she announced to the two voices in her head. Neither of them argued with that. She pulled on a mismatched ensemble of trousers, hooded poncho over long sleeved tunic, and short boots that she had procured when she first got into town, and slid open the door.

She squinted in the light. Thankfully the hallway was empty, but she still saw mysterious stains on the walls and carpets and food crumbs and wrappers that made her wrinkle her nose, and let her know that it hadn’t been deserted for long. 

Halfway down the hall she heard a door slide open, and reached instinctively for her belt. Oh, right. No lightsaber. She looked up quickly as a blur of motion assaulted her and all of a sudden a pair of lavender arms wrapped around her neck.

“I knew it was you,” Latts sighed into her shoulder.

“Latts!” Ventress exclaimed in relief. “I’m almost worried by how easily you found me,” she chuckled.

Latts nodded her head towards the open doorway which she had emerged from, and tugged on Ventress’s arm for her to follow. Ventress glanced around the hallway, saw it still deserted, and followed her wordlessly inside.

The room was as dimly lit and run down as Ventress’s, the main difference being that there was a large Gamorrean in the corner sitting with his legs crossed on the armchair, which looked like it could barely hold his weight. He eyed Ventress suspiciously as she entered the room.

“Hey,” Ventress greeted him awkwardly. He grunted and tapped his fingers impatiently in response. 

She straightened her hair and poncho as much as she could, she was not expecting to be meeting potential business partners right now and was feeling quite under-dressed and ill-prepared.

“We saw you walk in the door of the motel, but we weren’t sure it was you. You wore the clothes of the sandpeople, so my friend here thought you were some sorcerer from the wastes.” Latts explained. “We put a motion detector on your door to trigger when you left, so we could try and get a closer look out the peephole.” She threw the Gamorrean a triumphant look. “Looks like I was right!”

The Gamorrean grunted and rolled his eyes. He tossed a credit chip her way, and Latts caught it in both her hands, pocketing it with glee.

Latts’ expression softened as she turned towards Ventress again. “You were in your room for a long time. You must have had quite the journey.”

Ventress snorted. “I had some setbacks. But I’m here now. Thanks for waiting for me.”

Latts reached over and touched Ventress’s arm reassuringly. “I wouldn’t leave you,” she said, looking straight into her eyes, with such an expression of earnestness that Ventress had to look away quickly, or else risk tears welling up in her eyes. 

The Gamorrean grunted out an impatient query.

“Right, so my friend here has a business proposition for us,” Latts hastily continued. “He has contacts with the largest crime family on the planet, and they’re looking for people for a long-term contract. Debt collections mostly, but it pays well. What do you think?” 

Ventress had a sneaking suspicion this was not going to go well for her.

“What is the name of this crime family?” she asked reluctantly, bracing herself for the reality that she would not be able to take this job with Latts after all.

“It’s the Hutt clan,” Latts wrinkled her nose, “I know, I’m not a big fan either, but it’s a way to get paid without having to leave the outer rim.”

She thought it might be. Ventress’s heart sank.

“No, it’s not that,” Ventress hesitated and glanced warily at the Gamorrean in the corner. She leaned over to whisper to Latts, “The Hutts don’t like me very much. And that’s an understatement.”

“Why not?” Latts whispered back, perplexed.

Ventress lowered her voice so it was almost inaudible, “I kidnapped Jabba’s son during the Clone Wars.”

Latts let out a low whistle. “You sure burned a lot of bridges running around with that old crew of yours,” she muttered out loud. The Gamorrean raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I did find another proposition of my own on my way over here,” she reassured Latts.

“You did?” Latts asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yes, how about, uh,” Ventress’s eyes flickered towards the Gamorrean, who was now fascinated with cleaning under his fingernails, “We go out for drinks, just the two of us ladies, and I’ll catch you up on what happened?" 

Latts nodded with a smile. “Yes, let’s go out for drinks.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Obi Wan was back on Coruscant. What was he doing there? The boy, he had to get back to the boy, oh no, he’d already been away too long… Obi Wan vaguely recognized his surroundings as the Outlander nightclub. Everything was lit in a soft pink and purple hue, and undulating light patterns made him feel a bit wobbly on his feet. Or had he had too much to drink? He felt like he was walking through a haze.

All around him were various species wearing their finest clothes, he frowned as he looked down and saw he was wearing his Jedi robes from his days in the Order, from the Clone Wars. Funny, he hadn’t worn those in years. 

Through the crowd he saw a familiar tattooed bald head, a woman walking towards the exit, stopping at the service window for her coat. She wore a backless black gown that flowed gracefully as she walked, she appeared to be alone, and her expression was somber. With much effort, he pushed his way through the club to get to her.

“Ventress,” he greeted her, breathing heavily from the effort. Why was it so hard to walk in this kriffing place? 

She met his eyes wordlessly, her expression laced with sadness.

“I don’t know if you heard me last time, when I told you,” he tried to explain, trying to feel out if she had heard him, if she remembered what he said. 

She merely stared, curiously, waiting for him to continue. 

Feeling his stomach twist into a knot as he laid himself bare in front of her, he let the words tumble off his lips this time – not merely a force suggestion as it had been before, but tasted them rolling off is tongue.

“I love you, Asajj.”

The concierge droid was already waiting with a fluffy white coat in hand, waiting for her to take it, but she paid it no attention. Instead, her eyes glimmered with tears as she reached out to place her hands on either side of his head, and brought his face to hers with a kiss.

It was warm, passionate, soft.

Trembling, Obi Wan reached around and placed his hands on her bare back, her skin was so much softer than he would have expected. She lifted her lips from his for a moment and gasped in pleasure, and responded by arching her body so it pressed up against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and was slipping her tongue inside his mouth and Obi Wan felt a shock of pleasure course through him which stunned him so much he could barely breathe. 

All of a sudden he heard an animal’s honk. That seemed rather odd for a Coruscant nightclub. He looked around but couldn’t see the Outlander anymore. He smelled something foul, and felt something course and wet on his face. 

He opened his eyes. He was no longer on Coruscant but back in his home on Tatooine. The sun was out, already low in the sky. And there was a snot covered snout of an eopie staring him straight in the eyes. It honked again, and trotted back and forth down the length of his living room. There was a brown pile of dung by the door.

“Oh, stars,” Obi Wan grumbled, and rubbed his eyes as he sat up on the edge of his bed. He looked up at the eopie with disdain. “This is the thanks I get?” 

The eopie looked back sheepishly.

“I let you stay in during the sandstorm, and you make a mess in my house?” he lamented.

 The eopie lowered its head and batted its eyes at Obi Wan innocently. 

Obi Wan sighed. “Okay, thanks for letting me sleep in. In the future, I’ll have to teach you how to open the door panel.”

The eopie honked again, its spirits lifted.

Obi Wan stood up and walked over to the control panel on the door, palmed it open, and the eopie trotted outside, waddling back out into the Jundland Wastes.

Obi Wan surveyed his surroundings. The sand dunes seemed to have shifted in the night due to the winds, and there was a thick covering of sand on one side of his house. No reason to clean it up, he thought. Not like he had to keep up appearances out here. 

But there was something else he had to clean up, or else he would go mad from the stench. He sighed, and stepped back inside to grab a shovel from his basement.

After he had disposed of the eopie’s gift and cleaned up that area as best he could, he lay back down in his bed. He chuckled as he recalled the dream he was having shortly before he woke up.

“As if that would _ever_ happened,” he remarked wryly to himself. Although Ventress flirted with him mercilessly, she had also made it clear she was not interested in him on numerous occasions.

And who could blame her, he’s just a crazy old wizard who lives in the wastes and lets eopies take a dump in his living room.

He sighed, and ran his hand over the blankets. Where she had lay just a few days before. He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force. There were still traces of her Force signature here, but they were fading. He held on desperately to those wisps of her, clung to the comfort that for one night here, he was not alone. His world was real and someone had shared it with him.

The hollow in his chest yawned, a gaping hole where hope used to live – emptiness, despair. _I chased her away, didn’t I_ , he thought. _With my uny_ _ie_ _lding sens_ _e_ _of right and wrong. I should have known that she wouldn’t necessarily see things that way. I should have known by now that we are different._

“Time for your morning meditation, Ben,” he commanded himself, trying to shake away those nagging thoughts, and slowly sat cross-legged on the floor.

He closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the stain on the floor from the eopie, and tried to ignore the lingering smell. He tried to clear his mind of all distractions, letting it fall quiet like a pond, slowly, surely letting the ripples pass, just like the events of the past few days. Where there was nothing but himself, and the Force. Where he _was_ the Force.

But somehow, today, even within those tranquil waters , he could still feel those soft lips pressing against his, bare skin under his hands.

Obi Wan groaned. It was going to be a long day.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 Ventress woke up in her own motel room the next morning, tangled up in the sheets wearing nothing but her underclothes and a lavender arm over her face.

“I thought you had your own room, Latts,” Ventress scowled, and pushed the arm off her face and back on top of the sleeping Theelin beside her. Despite her grumbling though, she was secretly glad Latts hadn’t left yet.

“And miss all your good stories? I don’t think so,” Latts glared at her, and tried to roll over and go back to sleep. 

“What stories? I told you everything there is to tell,” Ventress frowned as she sat up and started getting dressed. 

“About this handsome rescuer of yours that made you a ‘proposition’,” Latts teased her as she smacked Ventress on the behind.

Ventress eyes opened wide in horror. “I called him ‘handsome’?” 

“Not in so many words,” Latts sidled up to her, grinning now, “But I know how to read between the lines.” 

Ventress had only managed to put on a shirt when she collapsed back on the bed, covering her eyes with her forearm. “He’s not _interested_ in me,” she groaned.

“Sure, he only invited you to live with him, but he’s not interested,” Latts rolled her eyes. 

“You don’t understand Latts,” Ventress sighed as she rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “He’s….” _He’s a Jedi. I’m a Sith. We’re natural enemies._

“I think my past would be too much for him,” she finally said. Laying her hands beside her on the bed, palms up in defeat.

“But he already knew you, right? That’s why he rescued you. Because he cared for you.”

“You know how it is Latts, my past ruins everything,” Ventress replied bitterly, now pressing her palms back onto her eyes as they started filling with tears. She was not awake enough to deal with these emotions right now.

“Hey, rookie,” Latts said sympathetically, crawling over towards Ventress and peering at her from above, “It hasn’t ruined your friendship with me.”

Ventress's lips twitched with a smile. "I guess you're right."

Latts pulled Ventress up and held her against her shoulder. Ventress gripped her tightly and shook with silent sobs. 

It wasn’t often that Ventress let someone see the vulnerable side of her. But Latts had taken her in immediately after their first job together, and dare she say she actually _trusted_ Latts?

“If you ever get a minute away from the Hutts, you better call me,” Ventress whispered to her.

“I’ll be placing bets on how soon you get it on with this friend of yours, so you better call me and help me win some money,” Latts replied with a squeeze. Ventress giggled.

Ventress stood up and looked herself over in the mirror. Her eyes were horribly puffy and red, her hair was askew, and she was still wearing only a shirt and her underthings.

When the Gamorrean suddenly barged into the room to retrieve Latts who was now late for her first shift, Ventress almost force choked him to death.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Obi Wan was having no luck meditating inside the house, so he ventured into the dune sea. He was greeted by the warm force signatures of the bantha. Many were coated in dust, sand having been caught in their fur during the storm. The calves were less so, having been sheltered by their parents for the most of it.

They greeted Obi Wan with placid moos, and a familiar animal started shuffling its way over to Obi Wan. It was the same one he had taken with Ventress towards the spaceport. It was incredibly fond of him now, since Obi Wan had kept his word by feeding it fresh hay from Bestine as a token of his gratitude.

The animal nuzzled up to Obi Wan, placing it’s snout under his hand.

“Good to see you, old girl,” Obi Wan greeted her. He began stroking her muzzle. The beast closed it’s eyes and grunted in contentment.

“How are you?” he asked her. Although he didn’t even need to ask, he could tell through the force that she was perfectly happy.

He sighed. If only he could be a bantha, and have no cares in the world except for where to get the next meal. And perhaps escaping krayt dragons.

Oh no, don’t think about krayt dragons right now.

Obi Wan squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead on the beast’s muzzle. “Why did I have to lose my temper at her?” he murmured, as if maybe the bantha knew something he did not. “Why did she have to go?”

The bantha mooed in sympathy. Obi Wan buried his face in its fur, as if he could just sink into it and have reality melt away.

Buried in the dark fur, there was nothing. There was only the soft breathing of the bantha, it’s slow rise and fall, her pulse, his pulse, his consciousness, the Force...

“What in the stars are you doing Kenobi? I’ve been looking all over for you,” he heard from a familiar gruff female voice.

He immediately lifted his head and turned towards its source. Ventress, wearing a hooded poncho and goggles, her pale hair being whipped about by the wind, walking towards him. Behind her was a black and bronze colored speeder bike.

“V-ventress?” he stammered in disbelief, rubbing his eyes to make sure he was seeing her clearly.

She walked up to him and grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands away from his eyes. “Yes, it’s really me,” she remarked with a wry smile. She dropped his hands.

“The job with Latts didn’t work out so I thought I’d take you up on your offer.” She hesitated. “That is, if it still stands.”

A wave of emotion and warmth washed over Obi Wan and for once, he didn’t find it necessary to hold it back. 

“Of course,” he replied breathlessly, and smiled, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

Ventress became visibly uncomfortable, “Don’t cry, it's so awkward seeing a grown Jedi cry.”

She started sniffling, and Obi Wan guessed that beneath those goggles, she was starting to cry as well.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” Obi Wan responded, still wiping away tears. “I’m just so happy.”

Ventress’s lips twitched. That must have been the final straw that broke her composure, because she flung herself towards him to wrap her arms around his neck in an embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered in his ear, in a trembling voice.

He returned her hug and tightly gripped the fabric on the back of her poncho, tears splashing down her shoulders. “I’ve missed you too, darling. Welcome home.”


	8. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan and Ventress can never catch a break from people trying to kill them.

The aftermath of a sandstorm was something Vader knew all too well. The mounds of sand piled up on the side of Ventress’s downed starship at the base of the canyon was a telltale sign, as was the fine dust that he could still taste through his helmet’s ventilation.

Clever – Obi Wan was clever to hideout on the planet Anakin least wished to return to. Even now, decades later, a life apart, he still felt Anakin Skywalker’s pent up anger, regrets, sorrow as he strode along the edge of the canyon cliffs. Seeing the sand through his tinted lenses felt surreal. Each mechanical step through the sand dunes was a struggle. Even now the sand was seeping into his joints and lifesupport system. It was dangerous to stay here for long. But after all these years Kenobi was finally within his reach. His heart pounded quickly, almost giddy at the prospect of confronting his old master, forcing him to see what a twisted mass of pain and rage and machine he had become, savoring the look of horror on his face – oh, Vader couldn’t wait to break that solid Jedi composure, know that he was the _only_ one who could break Kenobi’s mild and reserved nature into true, devastating despair.

“Kenobi…” he whispered, rage building up within himself the more he thought of his former master. He had waited years for this revenge, but he had not had the time to plan any elaborate scheme since he heard the news.

No problem, however. Now as always, his best plans tended to come to him spontaneously. The Force would guide him.

 

* * *

 

 

Like oil propelled itself away from water, so did living things from loneliness. But loneliness didn’t just mean being by oneself, Ventress knew. There had been many times when she had been surrounded by life and yet, alone.

The rabble in Mos Eisley without Latts felt that way – hollow, a mosaic of sights and smells and noises and yet none of them had any meaning for her. She could never get close to anyone, never reveal herself for who she truly was. A disgraced, ghost of a life – all that was left of someone who had once shown such promise, someone who had ruled her own planet and soon could have ruled the galaxy. And now no one knew. No one except for Latts and Kenobi.

Perhaps that was why she felt compelled to drive hours across the desert to Kenobi’s hut the same day she parted ways with Latts. There was a void in her soul, and she had had enough of being alone.

Ventress carried Obi Wan behind her on the back of her speederbike now. His grip around her waist was comforting in that it reassured her of his presence, but it was feather-light, weak. She had a suspicion he hadn’t been eating or sleeping well in her absence. Or did he ever out here? Concern gnawed irritatingly on her conscience. Since when did she care about people? It was such a nuisance.

When they pulled up behind Obi Wan’s residence, she powered off the bike and swiveled her head to look back at him.

“You first,” she nodded, indicating for him to dismount. “I wouldn’t want to kick you.”

Obi Wan smiled and released his grip on her waist, swinging his leg over the back of the bike to dismount. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he chuckled.

Ventress scowled. “It’s not like you’ve never kicked me before either,” she pointed out as she climbed off the bike, opening up a side compartment to pull out a knapsack filled with her belongings.

“Fair point,” Obi Wan mused, stroking his beard.

Ventress slung the backpack over one shoulder and pushed her goggles to rest on top of her head. She squinted in the sunlight. It would take a while to get used to the light, coming from the Coruscant lower levels. She’d have to invest in some sunglasses eventually.

She trotted up the hill to where Obi Wan was waiting for her, a few steps outside the door. He gave her a nervous grin as she arrived.

“Now I must confess, there might be a bit of a mess here, there was a sandstorm earlier and – “ he started, as he waved the door open, and then his eyes widened and mouth parted to let out a gasp, “Oh”.

Ventress followed Obi Wan’s gaze into his hut, and drew in a sharp breath.

A figure in black, like a void of light and color save for reflections off of a shiny black helmet, loomed in Obi Wan’s tiny living room.

What was even worse, was that he held a lightsaber which now hissed into life, exposing a crimson blade.  

_I should have taken my chances at Jabba’s_ , Ventress thought with dread.

 

* * *

 

 

Of all the scenarios Obi Wan had imagined for if the Empire ever found him, this was one of the more unfortunate ones. Whether this was one of the Inquisitors that was in pursuit of Ventress, or Darth Sidious’s new Sith apprentice to replace Anakin (or Vader, he supposed he should call him now), Obi Wan didn’t know. This person was covered from head to toe in a black bodysuit made of leather and armor, had a chest panel covered in buttons and blinking lights, and a respirator built into the helmet that drew breath loudly and rhythmically. Obi Wan deduced that this was once an organic being who was now an amalgamation of prosthesis and machinery. Either way, the red lightsaber did not bode well for him and Ventress. A Sith cyborg? He found himself almost waxing nostalgic for Grievous’s four blades, at least the General couldn’t use the Force. This was going to be a challenge.

The stranger stood motionless, as if waiting for Obi Wan to say something.

“Shall we introduce ourselves?” Obi Wan broke the silence, choosing his words carefully, “Or would you prefer to cut straight to the part where we fight each other?”

Ventress hissed at him from his side.

_Ok, maybe that was the wrong thing to say,_ he thought to her.

She just glared.

The stranger closed the distance between them with quick angry strides, and stopped when he was just a foot’s length in front of Obi Wan, causing Obi Wan to step back out of surprise. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ventress tense and take a step away to the side, knees bent and ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.  

The stranger stared deep into Obi Wan’s eyes, cocking his head to the side. As Obi Wan met his gaze, he could almost make out the eyes underneath. They looked… human.

“You don’t recognize me, do you,” A low mechanical voice boomed out of the helmet, punctuated by loud hisses of air as he breathed.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Obi Wan continued, carefully evaluating his unexpected visitor. “Maybe you had a different suit on last time? If I saw your face, it might – “

“You wouldn’t even _recognize_ my face anymore after what you did to me,” the stranger cut him off in a rage, hands balling into fists and stepping even closer to Kenobi so he had to back away yet again, keeping ever mindful of the lightsaber that hummed dangerously close to the hem of his robe.

Obi Wan looked up at him quizzically, trying to stifle the alarm that was growing in the back of his mind, “Maybe you could help me out a bit, what is your name? I’m assuming you already know who I am…”

The figure shook his head, fists trembling either from impatience or barely contained rage. “Use the Force, Kenobi,” he said, spitting out Obi Wan’s name with such spite and bile that he almost flinched.

Calming himself down from the initial shock of seeing this unwelcome figure in his living room, Obi Wan reached out with his senses.

At first, it was nothing he didn’t expect. Rage, hatred, a self-entitlement and lust for power he had sensed before in Maul and Dooku – perhaps this being really was the new Sith after all.

“You are… incredibly strong in the dark side,” Obi Wan commented, as the stranger stared down at him, expectantly.

“You were –“, he continued, hesitating until he got a clear grasp on the sensations and images that were flowing to him through the Force, “You were burned, that’s why you wear the suit.”

The stranger seemed to ease up a little, and his impatience mingled with excitement. Obi Wan guessed he was getting close.

“But it wasn’t with fire,” Obi Wan pushed on, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “It was…” his mouth went dry all of a sudden and he stammered. “L-lava.”

Time seemed to stop for Obi Wan. He couldn’t see anything other than the stranger, couldn’t hear anything other than the stranger’s breathing, and his own pulse pounding in his head. It was a coincidence, right? It was just a coincidence that this person seemed to have suffered the same sort of injuries as Anakin. Maybe it was a Sith thing, they all had to endure physical torture and pain and disfigurement… right?

But as soon as he thought that, he realized he was running around in circles, trying to dredge up excuses, any excuse that this was not… this was not really…

“Very good,” the stranger’s voice boomed, interrupting Obi Wan’s thoughts, “And where was I when that happened?”

Obi Wan looked down and swallowed hard, his mouth turned to ash and his voice cracking as he barely managed to speak the name, “Mustafar.”

The word hung in the air between them for a moment, as Obi Wan waited, holding his breathe, for the stranger’s reaction. A confirmation, or denial, of the response he was dreading. That this was…

He could just ask, he thought. He could just ask to be sure, was this – But the words died on his tongue. He couldn’t bring himself to say the name out loud. To this person that could _be_ him, or be all that remained of him –

_A_ breeze stirred the sand and it rattled its way across the desert floor. He could hear Ventress’s heavy breathing somewhere beside them. He wondered briefly what she must be thinking of this whole situation. If she was angry that this time it was he who had brought danger to their doorstep, or if she was merely confused.

“You refuse to look at me, Master,” the stranger prodded him.

And with that one word, _Master_ , his worst fears were confirmed.

Obi Wan’s breathing grew quick and pained. He didn’t want to look. Couldn’t bear to look.

When he had finally mustered enough strength to look back up, he could see his own reflection in the stranger – no, _Vader_ ’s helmet, and it was a look he had grown all too familiar with in these recent years. His sullen expression, eyes filled with anguish – it was the same face he would see staring back at him from the mirror after a crying spell, as he would splash his face with cold water to try and relieve the swelling on his eyes.

“You have no right to call me Master,” Obi Wan rasped. His voice sounded weak and frail to his own ears. “I do not know you anymore.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Vader replied solemnly. “I am a different person now. I have been _liberated_. I am no longer restricted by a group who stifles me because they fear my power. I no longer have to _suffer_ , being bound by the chains you all imposed on me, wondering why I was treated differently. I am more authentic and myself than I have ever been, this is the _true_ me.”

“No!” Obi Wan stepped back, shaking his head, mortified. “You needed help, and if you had only told me –“

“But no one did, no one helped me! I need help from no one but my new Master now!” Vader shouted. “You are _nothing_ to me now, you are inconsequential!”

And with that, Vader raised his lightsaber, arm up and ready to strike.

Then he groaned, tipped backwards as if he was about to fall, and dropped the lightsaber. It clattered to the ground, deactivated, as he clutched at the chain around his neck that was attaching his cape on either side, but was now was being pulled on from behind by Ventress.

“Ventress, be careful!” Obi Wan shouted, realizing what was happening, his stomach sinking in horror. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, who this really was. And she was unarmed. She didn’t stand a chance.

Vader reached up with one hand, grabbing ahold of Ventress using the Force and flinging her over his shoulder so she tumbled and crashed into the ground at Obi Wan’s feet with a cry of frustration. But before Obi Wan could help her up, she was being lifted in the air by Vader again, this time by her neck, her feet dangling as she struggled to breathe, grasping at her windpipe, gagging, her face contorted in pain.

The sight of her being strangled by this monster that had once been his padawan was something that would haunt Obi Wan in his dreams. All of a sudden he recalled the holos he saw the day of the Jedi purge, the small bodies of the younglings lying dead on the temple grounds, the flash of a blue lightsaber that he knew all too well. Vader showed no mercy, didn’t hesitate to kill. He wasn’t going to let him kill Ventress too.

He didn’t know why he didn’t grab his lightsaber. That would have been the logical thing to do. But all logic left Obi Wan. The world became a blur of emotion and he rushed at Vader, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. When that only caused him to tighten his grip on Ventress, Obi Wan screamed. He screamed a cry of rage and pain that he hadn’t remembered feeling since the day Qui Gonn died. He was a young and emotional padawan again, pounding furiously on Vader’s hard, cold, chest armor, shouting at him, and finally, sobbing.

Before long he had collapsed onto the blocky buttons that made up the lifesupport chest panel of the boy he had raised. The sandy haired boy from this forsaken planet, who had suffered so much but was so full of life and miracles. The boy who had grown up to be an awkward teenager, more powerful in the Force than anyone else his age. The man who he had trusted with his life throughout the entire Clone Wars, his brother and closest friend, the person who was almost an extension of himself.

The same man who had then shattered his life into fragments so small he would spend the rest of his life plucking the shards out from under his skin and never fully succeeding. The one who had damned him to a life of misery and remorse.

He laid on his chest and cried.

“Pathetic,” Vader murmured, pushing Obi Wan brusquely off his chest, and hastily brushing the tears away from the electronics in his chest panel.

Obi Wan stood tall and tried to compose himself as best he could, “Your qualms are with me, not her. Leave her out of it.”

Vader seemed to consider his words for a second.

“I will for now,” he said finally, pulling his lightsaber to his hand using the Force. In an instant, the blade was ignited and pointed at Ventress’s neck, as she was still on the ground, gasping for breath.

Finally getting his bearings, Obi Wan quickly ignited his blade as well, pointing it up at Vader’s neck.

Vader turned towards Obi Wan and powered off his saber, straightening up. Obi Wan retracted his arm but kept his blade on.

“But know this,” Vader continued, “I will find her again, and next time, I will kill her.”

Obi Wan’s throat tightened.

“There will be nothing you can do about it. No one you can turn to for help. You will live in fear and dread until that day. And when it comes, you will be left with nothing. A galaxy that hates you. Everything you love ripped away from you. And then I will come, and destroy your body as you did mine, keeping you alive so you feel the pain.”

“Vengeance and malice will never bring you satisfaction,” Ventress interjected, standing now and leaning against the doorframe. “Give up while you’re ahead. The dark side only uses you.”

“You wouldn’t know,” Vader sneered, irritated at her distraction, “You never succeeded with yours.”

She shot him daggers from her eyes, as he turned for one last glance at Obi Wan, and then strode out of the hut. He turned back to address them both one last time. “It is useless to run. I will always find you.”

And with that, he turned so sharply that his cape fluttered out behind him in the windless air, leapt down the hill, and was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Ventress slumped down against the door frame in shock, watching the Sith leave. She rubbed her throat where he had gripped her. It was still throbbing.

Looking back into the house, she saw Obi Wan curled up on the ground, his back against the couch, hands covering his face as he moaned, over and over, “What have I done?”

She crawled over to Obi Wan and pulled one hand off his face. He didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead, tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t take it too personally,” Ventress tried to console him, “Sith are just like that. Overdramatic, acting like everyone’s wronged them personally. I’m sure his life was messed up long before you came along.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Obi Wan lamented, shaking his head. He struggled for a moment, to find the words to explain to her.

“That was Anakin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know what you're thinking. It's been FOUR. MONTHS.
> 
> Well, I have some big news! I got a new job! I officially have a real career now/dream job for the first time in my life and it's all very exciting, but also very time consuming. Hence the lateness. 
> 
> Also this was just a hella intimidating chapter to write since, you know, it's the big Obi/Vader confrontation and reveal and it's like, kind of a big deal. My draft was labeled 8-5 since apparently I went through 5 different versions of this chapter. That's how intimidated I was.
> 
> I just finished the Kenobi novel and it was really good and inspirational for this fic since it's about Tatooine and all (and Kenobi) so I guess I have that to thank for my productivity today.
> 
> Anyways, I love you all, thanks for your support!


	9. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan and Ventress must come to terms with their fates in the aftermath of Darth Vader's visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for thoughts about death in the first half.

When a person narrowly escapes death, sometimes it can feel like they’ve cheated fate. For those who believe in a predetermined time of death for all beings, it can feel like living past your appointed time, like floating like a ghost through existence, hoping destiny never catches up to set things right, set things on the course the universe intended it to be. Worst of all, it feels as if a part of you dies every time, chipping away at your sanity, wondering just how hard you should fight to survive, just how hard you should fight the will of the Force.

Ventress was not at all surprised that the Sith tried to kill her. In fact, it felt almost right. She had felt the hands of death closing in around her all the more tightly these days. It felt like there was nowhere she could go to escape. It wasn’t that she thought she could escape by coming here to Obi Wan’s house, it was more of the idea that she wanted to live out the last of her days with someone she cared about and trusted. Death could come to her at any day, and she knew it. She was long overdue.

She listened numbly as Obi Wan told her the story of how he had first met Anakin just a few miles away in Mos Espa, how he had trained him, fought beside him, turned a blind eye to his relationship with Senator Amidala, and eventually, witnessed his turn to the dark side, and dismembered him and burned away the last remnants of that sandy haired little boy until he became the dark mass of man and machine he was today. Her head dizzy and pounding, she vaguely heard something about Anakin killing younglings in the temple. Killing the Separatist council. She gripped the edge of the couch to keep from collapsing back into a puddle of exhaustion. It was warm inside the hut, and she felt unwell. She couldn’t bear herself to look up into Obi Wan’s eyes, filled as they were with horror and grief, brimming with tears. She couldn’t contain all the emotions, all the rage, she was too tired, she didn’t have the capacity, she just wanted to sleep and deal with it another day.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, staring at the ground, hands clawing up around her knees. Her voice darkened and her eyes grew narrow and hardened. “I can’t imagine what it would be like, to witness your padawan turn to the dark side.”

She tried not to think. She tried not to think about if Ky had been alive during her turn to the dark side, what he would have done, how he would felt. If he would have done what Obi Wan had and tried to kill her. She wondered if she had been Obi Wan’s padawan, if he would have tried to kill her, too. She was overwhelmed, and her stomach felt nauseous.

“Ventress, are you feeling alright?” Obi Wan leaned over to ask her, his red-rimmed eyes filled with concern. Even when he was hurting most, even when it should have been her asking him the same question, this man, this Jedi, seemed to have a way of always pushing back his own concerns, putting others before himself –

She shook her head, eyes glazed with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said worriedly. “What is it?” He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, but she swatted him away, and stood up, glaring at him angrily in indignation. He looked up at her in surprise.

“You’re doing it again, trying so hard to help me when I’m the last person to deserve it, and you can hardly take care of yourself.”

Obi Wan gaped at her, speechless.

Ventress ran a hand anxiously through her hair and started pacing the room. “You need to forget about me. Stop caring for me. I’ll leave at first light tomorrow, and –“

Obi Wan stood up and grabbed her by the shoulders and wheeled her around to face him. She didn’t meet his eyes.

“Ventress, don’t be ridiculous, you just got here, and besides, where would you go –“

Ventress raised her forearms up in a swift motion and slammed them down on Obi Wan’s elbows, freeing herself from his grip and stepping back across the room.

“See? This is exactly what I mean!” she shouted at him, arms out to her side and eyes wild. “Since you’re too _polite_ to say it, I’ll just bring up the bantha in the room, that _Sith_ is going to _use_ me to make you suffer! You’re going to suffer even more than you already have, because of me!”

“It’s not because of you, it’s because of _him_!” Obi Wan shouted, desperately. He looked so old, so weary right now, she thought.

“I don’t deserve rescuing,” Ventress replied frantically, clutching at her hair with both hands, shaking her head. “The grief you feel over Anakin, I did the same thing to my Master. We are the same. You don’t need to have me here, as a reminder.”

“You are a reminder that there is still _hope_ ,” Obi Wan urged her.

She shook her head. Her arms fell to her side and she let out a sigh of defeat. “You don’t need to be put in a position where you have to decide between what’s best for you and the galaxy, versus what’s best for me.” She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her hips, staring straight at the ground. She bit her lip and sucked in a shuddering breath.

“I should have died a long time ago, Obi Wan. I need to stop fighting the will of the Force. If I had just _died_ when Dooku had tried to assassinate me, the Nightsisters would still be here. Or even better, if I died when Master Narec did, I wouldn’t have turned to the dark side to begin with. I’ve lived too long. Past my time.”

Obi Wan’s grip tightened around her shoulders and he shook her gently.

“Hey,” he said gently, trying to get her attention. She looked up at him.

“If you had died either of those times, I would not be alive today,” he said somberly.

Ventress looked away.

“If you had died in that crash landing just a few days ago, I would not have this sliver of joy in my otherwise miserable life, and you know where that joy comes from?”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers so she was looking up at him. Her eyes were still watering with the pain that racked her body on the inside, the force of her grief and guilt.

“It’s you. It’s this woman I am holding right now,” he continued.

Ventress blinked and more tears spilled down her cheeks, and she felt a knot in her stomach.

“Not only would I not have this joy, but Latts would have lost a friend. The Nightsisters would have lost the last of their kind. The Jedi would have lost a carrier of their memory, and the Sith would have lost a fearsome enemy.”

Ventress could only hear her heart pounding in her temples, as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. She reached up with one hand to wipe it away, and all of a sudden Kenobi was all around her.

He pulled her close to him, and wrapped her in his arms so tightly she could hardly breathe. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and whispered, “So no, you should not have died _any_ of those times. The Force carried out its will already, there are no contingencies, there are no failures. You are supposed to be here right here, right now. You are needed here.”

Her arms pinned against her chest from his embrace, Ventress twisted them so her palms were against the front of his tunic, and her fingers clung to the edges of the fabric, holding on as if for dear life as her tears splashed hot and wet on his shoulder, lips quivering uncontrollably.

She closed her eyes. “Why,” she whispered, like uttering a prayer. Surrounded by him, wrapped up in his warmth, there was no pain. There was only peace. She felt like she was floating, submerged in a sea of Kenobi. And yet, her stomach twisted as her lips spoke the word, her heart hungry for his reply.

“Because I love you,” he spoke into her skin, and she felt chills race down her spine.

He drew back and looked at her for a moment, then closed his eyes again and rested his forehead on hers, drawing her in close again, enfolding her in the warmth of his arms.

“If you want to know what’s best for me right now, it’s you,” he said, and she could feel his breath on her cheek. She slipped a hand off his tunic slid it tentatively up higher, so that her thumb rested against his neck. He drew in a small, almost imperceptible gasp of delight.

“I may not know all of your story, but what I do know is that it was awful and it was not all your fault,” he continued. “I know there is goodness in you and that the darkness keeps trying to kill it but still it survives. _You_ survive. And I’m in awe of you, I’m proud of you, and we will not let the darkness win.”

He opened his eyes and drew back slightly, just far enough to flash her a timid smile. “We’re going to take him on, Ventress, you and I together. We’re going to defeat that Sith. I know we can.”

That smile, that undefeatable optimism – Ventress couldn’t help but wonder why this magnificent man, this wonderful person, would choose _her_ of all people, her with her blackened heart and bloodstained past, and he made her feel like the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Overcome with emotion, she ran her hand swiftly up the back of his neck, intertwining her fingers in his russet hair, and slammed his face into hers as she pressed her lips against his in a kiss.

Their lips were chapped and salty with tears, he was awkward, caught by surprise, and his beard tickled the edges of her mouth. She could smell his sweat, the earthy smell of the desert in his skin, and she hungered for more. She drew back just enough to part her lips to cover his, and slicked his mouth with her tongue, seeking entrance. He quickly obliged, and as their tongues found each other she let out a small moan at the slippery contact. He tightened his grip on her body, and she rolled her hips against him in response. She slid her hands down his chest and his abdomen and he let out a sharp gasp as she wrapped her hands possessively around his waist, pulling him hard against her body. Circling her tongue languidly in his mouth, she relished in the delight she felt radiating off him in the Force.

Ventress slid her hand down the back of his tunic, past his waistband, to the fullness of his hips and squeezed, hard. Obi Wan let out a grunt and pulled back, holding her at arms length. Wondering if she had gone too far for the Jedi to handle, Ventress peered up at him inquisitively.

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly, panting from exertion and a growing desire that she could feel warm in her abdomen.

“Does your speederbike have enough fuel to get to Anchorhead?” he asked, looking comically disheveled now with his pink lips and mussed up hair.

“I suppose,” Ventress answered in confusion, obviously irritated at the interruption. “Why?”

“I just remembered something important I have to do,” Obi Wan replied, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Can it wait a few minutes?” Ventress hissed, stroking his neck with her thumb, and leaned over to bite at his earlobe.

“I suppose it can,” Obi Wan breathlessly, and as he leaned in again to wrap his arms around her waist, he yanked hard and pulled her on top of him, both of them tumbling onto the couch.   

“Good,” she replied with a devious smile, and crawled up his body so that she was straddling him, pulling her poncho and tank top off over her head in one smooth motion, revealing only a small white bandeau underneath.

Obi Wan drew in a deep breath and slid his palms up her pale, smooth abdomen, wrapping his fingers around the curve of her waist, feeling the grooves of her ribs. She closed her eyes in contentment and sighed, resting her hands on the planes of his chest.

“It can even wait until tomorrow,” he decided, drinking in the vision of her perched above him.

“Good, because I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” she gasped.

“Then I won’t keep you waiting,” he smiled, as he slipped out of his robe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ventress is not the only one who has been waiting for this moment for a long time! (e.g. Me too.) This fic finally earns it's Ventrobi tag.
> 
> This chapter was both painfully cathartic and illuminating for me to write.  
> (Except for the end. The end was just fun.)  
> I don't regret it though. I'm quite... proud of it.
> 
> Also I just realized that Obi Wan's speech makes it sound like I'm giving Lucasfilm the middle finger for killing Ventress off so early, which is totally something I would do, so that makes me very happy.
> 
> Again, thanks for all your readership and support and love for Ventrobi. <3 Our tiny little ship sails on.


End file.
